


Front Porch Looking In

by youremykindagirl



Category: Rookie Blue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1655114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youremykindagirl/pseuds/youremykindagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - The summer Andy's 21 she is sent to stay with her estranged Grandmother in St. Catherine's. She learns a lot more than she bargained for, and meets someone who changes her life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ain't Lost, Just Wandering

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello hello. We meet again. Just when I swear off writing, this happens. Here's to being 100% done with ff.net, and to help forget everything that's happened today, cause it was a lot, and it was odd. Hope you guys enjoy this.

Andy rested her head against the car's passenger side door, listening to the slow crawl of the car over gravel. The house that she'd seen them approaching from far up the long drive was now right in front of her. A large porch wrapped around the worn white house and faded red shutters bracketed every window. There was a gazebo somewhere back there by the brook next to the house, Andy remembered, old and creaky, but built to hold strong. It was a large sum of land, though the overgrown forest behind it probably skewed property lines. 

It was all familiar and at the same time disturbingly foreign. It had to have been at least ten years since Andy was last on this property, and she had had no intention of returning. 

And now she had no choice.

The drive from Toronto had been long and awkward, polite conversation was made between Andy and her grandmother, but their lack of knowledge concerning one another stifled things quickly. It was a silent understanding that they'd quit their efforts and enjoy the rest of the drive in silence.

But now there was no more waiting to be done. They had arrived.

The sentence that Andy was to spend a summer out of the city with her estranged grandmother was really going to be carried out. She gave her dad only a passing thought that she quickly admonished herself for worrying in that split second. He sent her here, he stabbed her in the back. He wouldn't occupy another thought this summer.

Ruth had already unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door before Andy had even pulled herself upright and was moving around the car to get Andy's things out of the trunk.  
Andy lethargically pulled herself out, closing the car door gently, and walked to where her grandma stood, hauling out the two large duffel bags.

The fresh country air, specifically the perfume from the cedar trees, comforted Andy quickly. Overcast made the day seem a little more ominous than she'd like, but at least it was cool. The smell of recent rain and the early morning spring mist still warming off made the whole lot look a lot more magical than she remembered. 

She thought of when she was five and had been chasing her cousin, barefoot, across the brook and back and would somehow end up with sap between her toes. Ruth would have her climb up onto the porch swing with her and would carefully take it off with a q-tip and ointment, not allowing her inside until it was all gone. Andy remembered it tickling, a lot.

Ruth is not an old woman, not in heart, spirit or mind. Not even physically, really. At seventy five she still manages to ride her bike, do light jogging, and keeps up with her academia - constantly reading journals and research. 

So when Andy tried to grab her own luggage and her grandmother batted at her hands to take them herself, Andy didn't protest. 

Ruth's hair had turned silver already, but evenly so and it was still thick and full. Her chosen style was to have it pulled back into a ponytail that resembled Andy's and her grandmothers red flannel jacket made her wonder if they'd been closer than she could remember. From what she could tell from the music chosen for the drive and the way Ruth carried herself, she wondered why she felt more akin to this woman than her mother, Ruth's daughter. If not for the woman's faint accent from her home land of Nottingham, she'd think she herself might be a younger carbon copy.

"I've got this Love, you're the guest, now go on up there and unlock the door." She said, handing over the keychain.

Andy hovered for only a moment before walking the hundred yards or so to the porch stairs, heading up languidly, taking a look at the front lawn, the porch...

On the side of the house nearest to kitchen and kitchen door, she noticed a small building structure of some kind. The beams and wood all looked quite new, and she noticed that there was a table with a bench saw, clamps and a tool kit next to it. She walked along the porch, towards it all, and noted the empty glass and hand towel resting on the porch near the side steps.

But before she could give it any more thought or guess as to what it might be, Ruth was calling her back.

"Andy, the door."

Andy went to her grandmother’s aid, sticking the key in the lock quickly, twisting the knob then stepping ou tof the way to allow Ruth inside.

"Alright, follow me, your room is on the ground floor, Dear."

She noticed the use of pet names in the few hours they'd spent together so far. Dear, love, darling... all of which were out of character, really. People change, but not this much. 

Her grandmother had moxy. She wasn't 'behind the times' and she prided herself on that. She was the kind of woman who didn't put up with unnecessary whining or complaining. She was the kind of grandmother who chopped her own fire wood, and had the kids carry it to the wood pile behind the house. She gave the 'in my day we walked ten miles in the snow to get to school' speech.

Ruth Elizabeth Wilson, widowed at thirty five, tough as nails, confusing as all hell. The woman in front of Andy was as much a stranger as she expected, but more distant than she'd secretly hoped.

Andy followed her, not too far behind and not too close, as she led her through the living room to the back of the house. The kitchen was to the right of the house's entrance and was large enough that it and its open concept dining room took up that whole side of the lower level. Andy's room was right next to it, with a view of the unfinished structure.

They entered the bedroom together, and Andy noticed that it was the room she always stayed in when they visited. Her parents stayed in the guest room upstairs, but this room was hers. Lilac walls painted just for her (it was her favourite colour for a time), a couple of stuffies that she hadn't minded leaving behind on the bed, a small vanity table in the corner that she used to sit at while Ruth brushed her hair and let her play with her clip on earrings...

It was like walking right into a wall how quickly and vividly things came back to her, just being there.

She watched as her grandmother placed her bags on the bed and made herway over to the window, opening it up, remove some of the stale air. And then she moved to the room's thermostat, turning it off.

"All the bedrooms have their own thermostats, Love, just turn the dial till you hear the click. And there's the attached bathroom, from just over there. I had the hallway entrance sealed, so it's private. Your own. There are fresh towels in there, and uh, I didn't know what brand of shampoo you prefer so I was waiting to make a trip to the store, and I have errands to run anyhow, this... afternoon..."

Ruth's rambling slowed when she noticed she didn't have her granddaughter’s attention while she took a turn about the room. 

Andy picked up and inspected a badly crocheted blanket that was strewn across the bed, and stroked her thumbs over the loose stitches. The green yarn felt familiar beneath her finger tips and she held it closer to her chest, breathing in the familiar scent that she couldn't place.

Tossing it back to where it was, she places her hands in her jacket pockets, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

"I'm going to head to the store now, run a few other errands. Why don't you have a rest, check out the house? You have free roam." Ruth mentions, leaning in the door frame, watching Andy like a hawk.

"Sure. Sounds good." She nods, speaking for the first time in hours.

"Alright, I'll be an hour or so. If you get hungry, there's plenty in the fridge." 

Andy sat on the edge of the bed, blowing out a breath as Ruth turned and left her. Falling backward, feeling the emptiness of the giant house (a house she associated with laughter and chaos) she realized this may be the longest summer of her life.

 

She dozed off there, wrapped around the blanket in the foetal position. She wasn't sure how long she'd been like that, but she woke up shivering and realized a gust of wind had picked up and blown in through her window. She hated napping with a passion. She didn't like waking up disoriented with a sour taste in her mouth, she never saw the appeal. So after a long and regretful groan, she lifted herself up off the bed and slammed the window shut. That'll show it.

But the damage had been done, the room was cold, so she slid over to the thermostat, turning that back up as well.

She scratched her shirt covering her stomach and ran a hand through her hair. Uselessly, she tried to smooth out her matted hair but gave up after only a couple of passes at it. 

Not like Ruth would care.

Peeking at her watch she realized that she'd only been down and out for about forty five minutes. But, Ruth would just be getting started on her errands now probably. Which meant Andy had nothing to do but walk around the house.

She stretched her arms up high above her head as she moved right out of her room and into the living room. It was what most people would expect of a grandparent’s home, sans plastic covered furniture. Most of her furniture was old. Andy thinks it probably belonged to her parents before her, and it was all a matching set. She knows the coffee table has a nice big scrape along the side. She put it there when she was seven. 

Lucy, her cousin, two years older than her, was running from Andy. They'd been playing tag in the yard but there wasn't much to do down there but run in circles. They decided they needed a maze. 

So when Ruth wasn't looking, they booked it up the porch and in through the kitchen door, bumping into the table, ripping around the corner past Andy's room and into the living room. Thankfully they kept away from the fancy china cabinet that was on the other side, because they both knew that while this was dangerous, ruining grandma’s china was a  
death sentence.

They both still had sticks in their hands from when Lucy decided it would be a good means to fend Andy off from tagging her. A whole choreographed intermission, where they swung and ducked and spun out of each other’s way before carrying on. And as they raced around the table before heading up the stairs, Andy's stick put a very deep scratch in  
the well-worn wood.

They both panicked and went into Andy's room and tossed the sticks out the window before racing back to the front door to remove their shoes. Next they raced to the kitchen to retrieve paper towels and dish soap to scrub the mud off the floor. The heavy duty cleaning supplies were safely locked away and both girls knew better than to go looking for them.

But that was the scene they were caught in. Rubbing the oak floors furiously around the rug, and they ended up telling Ruth everything. There was a stricter policy on playing in the house after that.

Andy chuckled and inspected the dent, not surprised to see it looking less menacing now. She got up off of her knees and eyed the staircase that led to her grandmother’s room, and decided to make her way up, passing the photos that littered the wall alongside them.

They were in chronological order, starting with Ruth and Grandpa Joe not too long after they met. He was a pilot, and Ruth fell for him hard and fast. Andy knew the story forwards and backwards and she and Lucy used to play pretend wedding, taking turns being them. 

There was a black and white photo of her grandfather in his uniform, and Ruth in a fancy fur lined coat and matching hat, hair neatly curled, and she was tucked into his side.

That was her favourite part of the story. It was so Romeo and Juliet... and back then, to an uneducated Andy, it was the ultimate romance. Ruth's parents disapproved. 

Ruth was high society, before they married. Raised prim and proper, but with a wild side waiting to claw out. When they met, grandma snubbed him, as she would've been taught to do to any man that she wasn't introduced to by her parents, but he charmed her quickly. Ruth always told her that she liked that he put up a fight. Not to win her over, no, but he didn't allow her to walk over him as if he were a piece of trash on the street. He told her that privilege wasn't security and that the tables may turn. That something as material as money could only keep a shallow woman from following her heart. Ruth always told Andy that that moment saved her from making the biggest mistake of her life. She changed that day, and that's how she knew even a lifetime with that man, scrimping and saving every last penny, would be ten times more worthwhile then a quiet and safe arrangement. Andy pressed a kiss to one finger and tap her grandfather's smiling face lightly, careful not to smudge the glass, and kept walking up the staircase. Past the wedding photos, and her mother and uncles baby photos as well. Graduations, their own wedding days and finally the pictures of Andy and Lucy at the top of the stair case. 

Newborn Andy in her grandmother's arms at the hospital. Toddler Andy on a blanket in the backyard, clapping with Grandma in delight. Andy's first school picture, her missing teeth, little red dress and neat French braid. And the last one, she looks about nine years old, wearing a sharp New York Yankee's baseball jersey and her own little cap backwards.  
Ruth was hugging her from behind in her own matching uniform, both their left hands still gloved.

Before Andy had a chance to ask herself the question that had been playing on a loop since her dad sent her here, she moved up another stair, pushing all those memories to the back of her mind. 

Ruth's bedroom door was open, and her grandmother did say she had the run of the house... So she ignored her conscience, which begged her not to snoop, and stepped inside. 

It was exactly as she remembered it. Old patch quilt she made herself when she was pregnant with Claire's brother, Robert, still lay across it. Embroidered pillows... though Andy didn't recall that being one of her grandmother’s hobbies. (She always said crocheting and knitting made her feel plenty old enough). The four poster bed frame matched the same furniture set that took over the living room, and the old dressers and writing desk that went with it. Sitting on the desk was a photo of Lucy in her cap and gown, with a diploma in a University of Toronto casing, and Andy's high school graduation photo sitting next to it.

The deck outside just held one chair and a tiny table, probably for her tea, with little else, though it was large. She used to have a big couch back there, old and lumpy, she and Andy would read up there in the early mornings, before the rest of the world was truly awake.

And then she heard a vehicle pull up outside the front of the house, though it wasn't the familiar hum of Ruth's Prius. It was a lot louder and masculine than that. Unfortunately the deck over looked the back lawn and the forest, so Andy crept toward the bedroom door slowly.

Before she was even at the top of the stairs she heard the front door close and heavy boots fall on the creaky floor boards. Whoever was down there released a frustrated sigh and his steps moved to the kitchen. The corner where Ruth's desk and computer were. Her makeshift study.

She heard the rustling of paper and decided she had to take action. Who knew what this guy wanted, or might take. Who knew what her grandmother left lying around...

So Andy reached for the empty vase that sat on the table at the top of the stairs and began her descent.

"Where is it?" She heard the low, rich voice ask, still frustrated, a little rough.

If she weren't scared to death, she might find it sexy, but she was scared. Terrified, and this vase wasn't exactly a choice weapon to defend herself with.

She prayed that the floor boards wouldn't give her away, and they held out, so by the time she hit the landing, she released a steady and grateful breath. She tried not to think about the beautiful blue fleur-de-lis on the white vase or the fact that it looked like a family heirloom, she just kept going. 

Ruth couldn't be mad. She had a good reason for breaking this on this guy’s skull. Though she prayed he'd hear her and she wouldn't have to. 

And just like that, the floor boards creaked, and he spun around to meet her eye.


	2. Walking In, The Same Way as I Did

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here's the next little bit. Sorry, I expected this to be out much sooner, but I lost the character voices. So I'm sorry if this comes off OOC. And PLEASE point out which parts do.

Andy stood her ground, vase raised still, trying to make herself seem threatening, but she had a feeling that's not how she was coming off.

"Holy shi-"

The guys foot slips a bit and he barely catches himself. His breath is coming in fast and hard, and he seemed to be trying to collect himself, but she figured now's the time to pounce.

She looked him up and down. He didn't seem to be attempting a heist. _Tight_ red tee shirt, dark blue jeans, heavy work boots... Not exactly subtle.

He wasn't wearing a cap or pantyhose over his head. His black hair was styled, a little poofy spike thing going on, and his face shaved. His dark eyes weren't foggy or cloudy, but a very distinct and very deep brown, with it. He even had his hands raised a little, in surrender, she supposed.

"Who are you?" Andy asked loudly, voice pitchy, having been quiet for so long, and that damn nap...

"Who the hell are you?!" He fired back quickly, surprised, and a little - he looked mad.

"This is my grandmother's house, now you better give me a reason for breaking in or I swear to God-"

And then he had the nerve to smirk at her. She watched as he shifted his weight between his feet and eventually rested his hands on his hips.

She scoffed at his dismissal of her, and finding amusement in her threat so quickly.

"Hey!"

"What, you're gonna throw that at my head?"

"I've got pretty good aim, pal." She shot back, snottily.

He visibly relaxed and tucked his hands under opposite armpits, standing tall and broad, definitely not backing down. She made herself stand up straighter. And though she didn't sense this was a burglary, and could now see his set of house keys on the desk behind him, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

"Oh yeah?"

His blatant disregard for the fact that he had no business being there, that he seemed so entitled and cocky... She really did want to prove it to him. But he also took her off guard with his attitude.

"Put it down, Sweetheart." He said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I work on Ruth's house sometimes. She was supposed to be in the city this morning, collecting, well, you. When I didn't see her car I figured she wasn't back yet, let myself in."

She relaxes her entire body. The tool box, water glass, and towel corroborated that story. As did his muddy work boots, which, well he must not be over much because Ruth would surely not allow that.

"Door was locked."

"I have my own key." He said, raising it for her to see. "Now if you're done with the inquisition, I'm just going to grab my cheque and go."

"Well hang on-"

"I'd love to hang out. Really, I would. Get to know you, braid each other's, uh, _hair_ , but now's really-"

He was interrupted with the opening of the front door.

They both turned around quickly and Andy lowered the vase when she saw Ruth step through the door.

"Andy!" She called, not yet seeing them only a few feet away. "I forgot my- Sam?"

Ruth paused in the doorway while Andy looked down and rolled onto the balls of her feet a little. A nervous habit she's never been able to shake, and hates how childish it made her look, especially in front of that guy.

Ruth looked as though she were waiting for some sort of explanation so Andy just turned to the intruder.

To _Sam_.

Andy took him in now with a name to match, and she watched as his face softened drastically and he smiled at her grandmother. His smile... it didn't suck. He had dimples that hugged his mouth and made his eyes shine. Pearly white teeth that, when bared, made him appear totally welcoming.

"Sorry Ruth, just came to get the cheque, didn't know your granddaughter was here already."

Andy frowned at him a little then, catching herself. She turned to thinking about how his behaviour had changed only for Ruth's sake. Otherwise he'd still be scoffing and stomping around. She rolled her eyes at him, and he brought his attention back to her, though this time, he had the decency to look a little apologetic.

"I think I gave her a scare." His eyes fluttered up to inspect Andy's posture too, see how she'd relaxed, and lowered her weapon.

He dropped her gaze quickly though, seeing confusion there, his sudden 180. Truth is he knows he's testy today, and he did freak her out. He pushed her too far.

With her eyebrows and jaw relaxed, her eyes having gone back in her head, she looked more her age. Eyes softer, Bambi-ish, and jaw sharp... she was a natural and unique kind of beautiful.

He shifted his focus from the floor to Ruth, the kind old woman studying the two of them curiously.

"Yes... Andy, you can put down the vase, Love. Sam this is my granddaughter, Andy McNally. Andy, this is Sam. He does some odd jobs for me around the house. This old girl can't do it all on her own any more. I just leave him with a list and 'POOF' like magic, it's taken care of. He's building me a green house as well." Ruth said, putting her purse down and the one bag of groceries she'd managed to buy.

Andy nodded, peeking out the kitchen window at the building site.                                                 

The tension in the room was really only felt between Sam and Andy as Ruth went about putting the groceries away. Sam turned the envelope over in his hands and scratched the back of his neck, with a slight grimace on his face.

Andy walked further into the room, approaching the desk near where Sam still stood, and reached out to put the vase down, his demeanour shifting as she approached. Definitely still tension.

"Now, Sam, you're staying for dinner tonight aren't you? It's tradition, Andy, Sam stays for dinner every other Sunday." She announced proudly, putting the milk in the fridge. "Always will. Until some girl in the city snatches him away and he stops visiting me."

Sam nodded and suppressed a grin as Ruth spoke and Andy looked at the way they interacted.  Watching Ruth for only another second, Sam took to helping her unpack the grocery bag, with an obvious knowledge of where things go. There was so much ease in the way they moved around each other, and a seemingly genuine friendship between them that had Andy a little confused. What could a thirty year old man have in common with her grandmother?

Why did she treat him like family, when she hadn't spoken to Andy in years, save for birthday and Christmas cards?

"You drive up every other Sunday from Toronto?" Andy asked incredulously, trying to put his story together. It didn't make sense to her, their relationship to one another.

Ruth laughed, but patted Sam's shoulder as she passed him to place something in the pantry and Sam stopped and looked to Andy.

"No, I'm up here for a couple of months. Visiting my sister." Sam said, leaning over the table to pick up the separated sections of the newspaper and tucking them under his arm. "But Sarah can be a nightmare, so I spend most of my days down here."

Andy raised an eyebrow, wondering what kind of job in the city would allow him to take off for a couple of months. Teacher, probably. It is nearly summer.

She nodded, and watched as he tossed the papers into the recycling bin under the sink and Ruth moved to that end of the kitchen too, grabbing the kettle to fill it.

"Won't you stay for some tea, Sam?" Ruth asked, smiling at him warmly, looking almost mischievous.

Andy had to restrain a groan, wanting to avoid sitting with him after the way they'd both behaved, and he must have caught it because he shook his head in response.

"I'll be back for dinner. Gotta get to the bank and do some stuff for Sarah first."

Andy watched as Sam leaned over a little and kissed Ruth on the cheek and tucked the envelope into his back pocket as he walked past Andy.

"Nice to meet you, Andy." He said without stopping.

"I have a leaky sink!" She shouted spastically, wanting the final word. The last thing she needs is a reputation in this house as a softy. Though apparently, it might just be Ruth, which she never would have seen coming.

Her grandmother looked at her like she'd grown a second head but it didn't seem to faze Sam at all because he kept walking.

"I'll add it to the list." He laughed.

Andy looked at the floor until she heard the front door close and then when she exhaled and looked around the kitchen as though nothing weird had just happened. When she did muster the courage to look at her grandmother, she was met with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Run a comb through that mane before dinner would you?" Ruth chuckled, tossing a dish cloth over her shoulder and turning back to the sink.

 

* * *

 

 

Andy stood in her bedroom, listening to Ruth and Sam make conversation while she finished shimmying her wet legs into her jeans.

She didn't mean to shower for so long, but it felt nice to wash away the grime and the baggage that came with coming back, and to wash away the dreariness that followed her nap. She brushed her teeth furiously too, and combed her wet mess of waves, but she still looked tired and drained. Bothering with her every day makeup seemed futile, so she put some moisturizer on her face and tied her hair in a bun.

Staying in her room a little longer was all she wanted. She wanted to let them have their own little tradition... she didn't want to participate. Andy didn't want to paint on a fake smile and make polite conversation. She didn't want to be here, and she didn't want to be home. She just wanted to escape.

Throwing on a grey cardigan, she opened the door, and heard the conversation in the kitchen quiet. When she turned the corner, she saw Ruth and Sam at the counter chopping vegetables, looking over their shoulders at her.

"Andy, why don't you grab an apron and check on Sam's curry for us, hmm?" Ruth asked, quickly turning her attention back to the herbs she was chopping, leaving Andy's stare to find Sam's.

He managed a weak smile and she pressed her lips together and tried to do the same, though she's sure it looked forced. She followed Ruth's instructions and pulled an apron off the hook by the fridge, but only after she had tied it on did she notice she was the only one wearing one.

Andy began to wonder if it was difficult for Ruth to acknowledge that Andy was no longer ten years old and may actually be capable of stirring without making a mess. But then she feels herself taking it out on the spoon, and ends up creating splatter... all over the apron. Ruth comes up next to her, dropping the fresh herbs into the pot and places the burner on simmer, and drags Andy away.

"Okay, I'm going to go and water the garden before I lose the daylight. Sam, Andy's taking over as sous-chef."

Before either one had an opportunity to object, Ruth was pulling on her gum boots and flannel jacket at the back door.

As they listened to Ruth move off the porch and onto the lawn, Sam cleared his throat and turned around to face her where she stood in front of the stove. He leaned back against the counter and she noticed he'd already started on a beer, and she decided she was going to need one too. She was only just opening the fridge next to her when he began speak.

"So uh, I just wanted to say I'm sorry about earlier. I mean, I clearly scared you and I wasn't in a great mood." He said genuinely, but making only partial eye contact.

"It's okay." Andy replied flatly, trying to distract herself from how isolated they were. No matter how odd things were going to be at dinner at least her grandma was a buffer. "What do you need me to do?"

Sam seemed surprised that that's all she had to say about what transpired, and that there was nothing she wanted to say on her end. He blew out a breath, and looked at the counters and stove and merely shrugged.

"We're just waiting on the rice, so, there's nothing really left to do."

Andy reached into the utensil drawer in search of the bottle opener, but before she could even search around for it, Sam stepped in.

"Let me." He said, plucking the bottle from her hands.

He placed the edge of the cap on the counter and brought the flat of his hand down, separating it from the bottle.

"Thank you." She smiled, a little more than mildly amused by the action.

She took it back from him, and the long sleeves of her cardigan protected her hands from the cool bottle. Leaning back against the counter, the same way Sam had, she felt the need to let the words that were choking her get out.

"I'm sorry too... I mean, I don't know why but. I'm sorry, cause, things are weird, and you're going to be here a lot, right? So, I'm sorry. Let's just forget it. Disregard."

While she expected a smile, he only offered her a roll of his eyes, and she wondered if her words were too blasé. Then again, she didn't really have anything to apologize for in the first place. He was being a dick. She was scared. This was her residence for the next few months and for a split second she felt unsafe. Everything she did was defensive, and he wrote her off.

So instead of trying to rephrase it, she huffed and walked across the kitchen, wanting a little distance.

At long last Ruth returned to the eerily quiet kitchen to find her guests in some kind of stand-off, staring at one another.

 

* * *

                                                                                                                                                                                             

"Andy's just finished her third year of psychology." Ruth said loudly over the quiet dinner table. "And a minor in criminology, right?"

They had all tucked in to the curry a while ago, and were all fine with the silence as they tasted the first few bites and satisfied their hunger. The pace slowed after not too long and they sipped the wine that Sam had brought for Ruth to accompany it, and now there was a lull as they toyed with the last few bites left on their plates.

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked, perking up at conversation, most likely dwindling in the tension. "What're you looking to get into?"

Andy bit the inside of one cheek and tried not to play the game tape of her dad drilling her with the same question for the last two years, but failed.

"I don't know... yet." She said, as pleasantly as possible, but was certain it wasn't very.

"I can remember when you were just a girl, you always walked around telling everybody you wanted to be a cop. Just like your daddy. You asked us all to call you McNally. 'Officer McNally'."

Andy watched as a memory lit up in her grandmother's eyes and a small smile touch the edge of Sam's mouth.

She remembered that very well. Tommy would let her polish his badge every once in a while. She'd steal his old uniform shirts and wear them to bed, dangling well past her knobby knees.

One morning, the morning of a funeral for one of his colleagues - a long time friend - he had his dress blues laid out. Andy took his cap off the desk, and put it on her small head, let the brim fall over her eyes so that all Tommy could see was some wisps of hair from her messy ponytail and her wide, partially toothed, smile. He laughed for the first time in two days that morning.

But then... then after Claire left, there were the nights she'd unclip his badge from his belt once he'd passed out from the excess of scotch he'd thrown back. A good day, successful interrogation, a bad day, someone getting off the hook or an innocent civilian dead... it didn't matter. He had all kinds of days, and one way to finish them off. She'd lay out his dress blues for services he was in no shape to go to.

"A lot has changed since I was ten." Andy replied, hard.

She continued to push the last piece of chicken on her plate around in the rice and curry, dousing it fully, but not yet taking that last bite. The clanging of her companions' utensils was ringing more loudly now than earlier, and she knew it was because she had dumped her baggage on the conversation.

Sam cleared his throat hard, once and Andy forced a smile, trying to move forward, to undo her stunt.

"Uh, Sam, what did you study?"      

It was Ruth's turn to put her fork down and fully face Andy but before she could answer on Sam's behalf, Sam spoke for himself.

"I didn't go to college."

It was frank, almost abrasive, and clearly something he'd had to defend before, because he looked like he was ready to tell her all the reasons why not, but Andy just leaned back a little. There was something in his eyes, the way he narrowed them, and poked his tongue into the side of his cheek that dared her to push him. But she didn't. She just watched him, watched his shield come up like he was defending himself against the Death Star.

She sat there and picked at a nail, thinking he was definitely _not_ a teacher then.

"Okay then."

"Andy, Dear, I hadn't a clue what I wanted when I was twenty-one. You've got your whole life to find out what it is you want." Ruth insisted, drawing the conversation back to her, and taking the last sip from her wine glass. "And just when I thought I knew, I met your grandfather. Life is funny that way. Plans never seem to work out the way you expect."

"I guess."

Andy couldn't help the smile that ghosted her mouth at the mention of Ruth meeting her grandpa. When she looked back up at Sam across from her, checking to see if his shields were down, she saw him already staring back. His curious eyes did his best to bore into hers, the way she'd just been trying to do with him, but with a little less luck. She felt her girly romantic side showing even as she tried to suck it back in.

"Well that drive today took it out of me. If you two don't mind too much, I think I'll retire for the evening, catch up on some reading." Ruth said, pushing her chair back from the table.

"I'll clean up." Andy volunteered, reaching over to her grandmothers place to take her plate.

"Nonsense. Put on a pot of tea. We'll leave it for the morning. Goodnight Sam."

He seemed to stretch from his seat, standing slowly and rubbing his hands in his napkin before dropping it on top of his plate.

"I should head out myself..."

"No, no, no, you refused tea this afternoon. The least you can do is join Andy for some now."

"Ruth-"

"Samuel." She said sternly, and definitively, a tone Andy distinctly remembered. "Have one cup before you go. Help take the edge off the wine before you drive. Give this old woman a little peace of mind."

Sam sighed and dropped his hands from his hips to his side and nodded.

Ruth stepped closer to Sam and rubbed a hand up his arm comfortingly as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek again, and Ruth squeezed Andy's hand in passing, uttering a quiet goodnight before ascending the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

"No milk, no sugar, just plain old orange pekoe tea?"

"Yeah. What's so weird about that?"

Andy shook her head and stirred the milk in her tea, hoping it wasn't so much as to cool it off.

"Well nothing... if there are cookies or cake. But otherwise, you're just sipping on a cup of bitter."

Sam chuckled and hid his mouth behind the mug, taking a sip. He watched her while she sipped on her tea, tasting to see if she'd doctored it to perfection.

"Yeah well, you are what you eat."

Andy smirked and finally put the cap back on the milk jug, deciding that was good enough and turned her attention fully to her company.

"That's a little self deprecating." She said, eyeing him for any signs of discomfort.

Sam merely offered her an eye roll and cleared his throat, resting his elbows on the table, and hugging his palms around the mug.

"Don't shrink me, please. That, that stuff doesn't work."

"Wow. Thanks for completing invalidating the last three years of my life."

"I mean, for some people. Not for me."

Andy took another sip of her tea, watching Sam stare at his hands and waited for a crack in the foundation, but  it ever came.

"People who think it's not for them are usually the least exempt."

"Read that in a text book, did you?" He bit.

"No. That's experience."

Sam's eyes did meet her then. Eyebrow up and mouth a little open. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

A look passed between them and Sam's shoulders relaxed. Andy didn't push, so Sam didn't have to resist. It felt easier in the room without a third party, and some distance from the days earlier fiasco. Sam knew he was going to have to find some common ground with her, if only for the summer. And Andy knew she'd need a good buffer in case things with Ruth go the way she was expecting them to.

"So. How'd you meet Ruth?" Andy asked.

"Ah, my sister. Sarah's known Ruth since she moved up here. Went to a public assembly or something. They were both pissed about where they wanted to start building the new city centre, went for coffee after."

Sam smiled, imagining the two impassioned women fuming at the city counsellors who were scrambling to get themselves out of town.

"Yeah. I can imagine Ruth getting pretty worked up about that. She loves this place. Always loved that it was small."

"Sarah's the same way. She doesn't live far from here, but far enough away from town. The last thing she'd want is a Ladies Fitness down the road."

Andy laughed, trying to imagine this place being busy and loud. Hearing traffic, and yelling, sirens. This was a haven away from the city. And as much as she didn't want to be here... she also kind of did.

They both took a drink from their mugs and Andy noted that she was about half way done now. She wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to slow her pace or down the rest in one go. But she figured she could save the chugging for in case things go south fast.

"So. Don't want to be a cop?" He asked, pulling Andy out of her anxious thoughts.

'Don't shrink me' she felt like saying.

"Not lately, no." Andy answered as honestly as she knew how to.

"Why not? I mean, what interested you in the first place?"

"I guess... I wanted to do something to help people."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I mean, be out there, physically making a difference."

She wouldn't mind the gruelling hours in the heavy and hot uniform if it meant they got dangerous people off the street. She wouldn't mind sore feet  or mind numbing paperwork if it meant helping families, children...

She had wanted to know exactly what was going on in her city.

"So... you changed your mind?"

"I value my sanity." She said quietly, wishing it hadn't popped out.

"What?"

"It's just not like I can go there, put in my hours and go home. That kind of job comes with a price."

But could she stand the days when help came too late? Could she compartmentalize? Would the alcoholism that ran through her veins become her crutch? Could she resist corruption?

In truth, she wanted to blame everything she'd seen in her father for her own in decision. But mostly, she feared she didn't have the strength to challenge her doubts and find out if she could succeed.

"Hmm. Yeah, I suppose it does." He muttered, a tone of understanding.

"Besides. How many people end up being what they wanted to be when they were a kid?" She laughed, not as humoured as she wanted to seem.

"Hey, if it's still what you want..." Sam glanced down then, noticing that his cup was nearly empty and Andy was fading every minute.

Her eyelids grew heavy and her eyes dreamy and he had the urge to lift her up and walk her to her bedroom. But before he could figure out what the hell kind of paternal place that came from, she stood up and reached over to grab his mug. He hadn't even noticed himself take the last drink.

"What I _need_ is a good night's sleep." She sighed, looking slightly forlorn.

Sam nodded and stood with her as she collected the teapot and milk, and resisted following her into the kitchen. Instead he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and put it on in one clean swoop while he listened to her place the dishes in the sink.

A moment later she was slowly walking out to the front hall where Sam had wandered and leaned against the wall as he slipped on his boots.

(Ruth did have a thing about shoes in the house. Heard him get scolded when she stepped out of the shower.)

"Drive safe." She yawned, covering her mouth.

Sam smiled and nodded looking around the house to make sure everything was in place and accounted for. A nervous habit of his own.

He cleared his throat and swallowed hard, trying to clear the taste of tea from his mouth.

"Uh, yeah. Will do."

She smiled lazily, closed mouthed and watched as he opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. While he was patting his jacket and pockets, making sure he had everything he came with, he hovered there, and faced Andy one last time.

"Tell Ruth I'll be by tomorrow. And um, don't threaten me this time, okay?"

She managed a giggle, that morning seeming so silly and so long ago, and the wine made it easier to come to terms with too.

"I'll lock up my weapons."

"Goodnight, McNally." He said, her last name rolling off his tongue like the devil's candy.

She moved closer to the open door, watching him descend the stairs, and waiting until he hauled himself up into the high cab of his beastly truck and was safely locked inside.

She meant to close the door then, but lethargy took over and her eyes stayed fixed on the Ford until its taillights disappeared down the drive and were out of sight.


	3. I Like It In The City When Two Worlds Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's mooooore. I'm trying to keep the updating consistent. I think I'm doing pretty well so far... Anyway, leave me some thoughts. It always makes the chapters come faster.

Monday morning, Andy was awoken by the whir of a small motor outside her bedroom window. At first she thought it might fade out to be background noise, and move away. But every time the weed-whacker started and stopped, she jolted.

The moment she rolled over in her bed, something bright disturbed the black and made her closed eyelids seem red, and she was forced to open her eyes to the line of sunlight peeking through her curtain. All there was to see was harsh white, and she squinted in an attempt to see what was disturbing her. After not too long, she rolled over in her bed again, and tried pressing her spare pillow to her exposed ear to soften the sound.

She rolled around and tried various things to get the disruption to dull, but by the time she started thinking none would work, it stopped for good. She sighed in contentment, settling back into her pillows leisurely. But after trying to return to sleep for only a few minutes, she discovered she was, tragically, wide awake now.

Andy let out a frustrated groan, and sat up like a zombie fresh out of its grave and ripped her elastic band from her wrist before twisting her hair up into a bun and tying it securely. Her jaw opened wide and she let out a yawn and smacked her lips a couple of times, clearing her mouth and throat right after.

While she worked on stretching her eyes open to adjust to the brightness of her room, she wiped away the sleepy crusts that had formed in the corners of her eyes overnight. And once she felt prepared to leave her sanctuary and greet the day, she tossed off the comforter and small green blanket, and stalked over to her bedroom door.

 She was almost in the kitchen when she realized she wasn't very well covered up, wearing only her sleep shorts and a camisole, but thought Ruth really wouldn't care. Liberal feminist that she is. So Andy stretched out her arms over her head and continued on to the fridge, hoping to find some juice.

The choices in the fridge were limited to apple, cranberry or grapefruit and Andy wondered what kind of person would have all that and not orange, but eventually she just gave in, going for grapefruit. Next best thing. Something citrus, at the very least.

She glanced out the window, noting that like in all its spring fashion, the weather was drastically different from yesterday. Already she could feel that the sun had been working hard to warm the house, and the rest of sky was open and blue, not a cloud in sight. She stepped out of the sunlight on the floor, and already her feet missed the toasty feel.

While she looked at all the cabinets that hung from the walls, she figured cups would be close to the sink, and thus began her hunt for one. And that's when she heard Ruth coming down the stairs, and the familiar creak of the fifth floor board not too far from the landing. She'd have to be sure to remember that.

"Good morning Andy." Ruth smiled, approaching her desk, and laying a book down on it.

"Mornin'" She mumbled, voice still scratchy, eyes still droopy.

Ruth kept a trained eye on Andy as she dragged her slipper clad feet across the kitchen to where the bread box and toaster sat, and got herself two slices and punched down the button on the machine. Andy then walked to the fridge, searching for condiments to put on her toast. Eventually she pulled out cream cheese, half a tomato, and grabbed a fresh avocado from the fruit bowl on her way back to the toaster.

"Do you want one?" Andy asked over her shoulder, pointing to the bag of bread, feeling bad about her crappy mood.

Ruth shook her head and continued to stare at Andy with concerned eyebrows. Andy tried to shake that off, and went back to her meal, looking around the kitchen for a cutting board.

She found one without much trouble while she listened to the click of  Ruth's computer mouse and the ruffling of papers. She began to slice the avocado in half when her grandmother spoke up again.

"I'll be outside in the gazebo if you need me, Dear. Just holler." Ruth said, watching as Andy took a knife and brought it down hard on the core of the avocado, pulling it out more easily than with a spoon.

"Okay."

"And Sam's here, so, you may want to throw on a sweater before going outside."

Right, Sam. Andy had forgotten that he must be the one using the power tools. Considering there isn't a neighbour for miles...

Living in the city, in apartment buildings, the only noise that she's used to being woken to is traffic, or screaming neighbours or sexually active neighbours. She had completely dispelled Sam from her brain while she was sleeping. But remembering him now, his tight red t-shirt, his dimpled smile, she looked down at her own attire, and rushed off to her room. Just as her toast popped.

 

* * *

 

When she stepped back into the kitchen pulling a hoodie over her head, Ruth was gone, the cream cheese was spread on her toast and the fresh tomato and avocado already sliced. Andy raised her eyebrows and took out a plate, placing them on it without a word and turned to the coffee maker.

Just as she'd noticed that there was no coffee left, the kitchen door opened and where Andy expected to see Ruth, she saw Sam.

He was wearing a white shirt today, paired with jeans, and the same heavy steel toed work boots from the day before. There was a tool belt hanging perfectly from his hips and beads of sweat shone on his forehead and ran down his neck. Her eyes danced over his arm that stood out more today, and she wasn't sure if it was because this shirt was white or not, but it seemed tighter, and it hugged his chest nicely. His biceps were engaged as she noticed him holding an empty glass, and then she realized she'd been staring much too long.

By the time she straightened herself up and looked to his eyes, she noticed he hadn't been looking at hers either. But since he seemed to be paying more attention than she was, his eyes corrected themselves right away, and he offered her a small smile well before she could make out what he was staring at.

He cleared his throat and raised the cup, stepping into the kitchen and approaching the sink.

"Morning." She said, more perkily than she had earlier to her grandmother.

"Hey." He said in reply, voice low, and eye brows turned down, concentrated on the water level rising in his glass.

When he was satisfied with the amount, he pulled it out from the falling water, and raised it to his lips. Andy couldn't help but gaze as his Adam's apple bobbed with every gulp, and a few stray drips of water escaped from his mouth and ran down his stubbly chin.

He lowered it after only a few seconds and took a deep breath to replenish his lungs and then put the glass back under the tap, filling it up again.

Andy was still transfixed when Sam abruptly turned the handle and shut the water off, and sighed.

"Just get up?" He asked, checking the watch on his wrist.

"Yup." She said, a little embarrassed at the way she'd been drinking him in since he came inside.

"Huh. Well, nice of you to join the land of the living."

She thought that she was meeting the same guy who'd scared her yesterday, a sarcastic and smug guy, but he offered her a small smile to let her know it was all in good fun and she snorted in response.

"I thought it'd be nice to grace you with my presence at some point."

Andy opened the cupboard above the coffee machine, looking for coffee grounds as Sam stood by the sink, sipping on his water. She moved things around and stretched up onto the tips of her toes to see passed the items that were stacked high, but was unsuccessful.

"She keeps the coffee beans in the pantry. Grinder's there too." He quipped, voice rather flat.

She wasn't watching him, but she could feels his eyes on her, somehow, and it felt... intense. Well aware that she had and audience, she crouched down to the bottom shelf of the pantry to retrieve the beans, rather than bend. As she stood back up, slowly to stretch her legs, she remembered how bare they were, and that that was what Sam must have been inspecting.

Blushing was not something Andy did. Her cheeks wouldn't colour, and she had her grandmothers olive-y and tan prone skin to thank, but she did feel a little warmer at the realization. Her stomach kind of did a somersault, and she admonished herself for finding flattery in his ogling. But-- she ogled him too... really, _really_ shamelessly.

"Want a cup?"

"It's almost noon, I think I'll pass. Thanks though." He laughed.

"Noon!?"

"Yeah, Sleeping Beauty, noon. Lunchtime." Sam smiled as he raised the glass and took another drink.

Andy turned her attention to the clock on the microwave, confirming Sam's statement, and groaned a little, thinking she's now thrown her whole sleep schedule off track.

"Did I wake you? Tried to save the weed whacking on your side of the house for last, figured you'd be up by now."

She nodded, in an attempt to tell him that he did, but that she understood and he did his best to look apologetic, but she could also tell he was plenty amused with her already.

"Okay, well, I'm done over there, so if you want to go back to sleep..."

She smiled at his small tease but was distracted with where her day had gone, where the time had gone.

Andy stared at the stuff she'd just retrieved and realized she really shouldn't be leaning on caffeine after that long a sleep. She considered her options; going back and hiding in her room all day, or getting into a routine, keep busy.

"I was just going to head out on a run, actually. So it's all good. Do what you gotta do. Get 'er done." She rambled awkwardly, hustling to put everything away that she'd gotten out.

He was still watching her when she came back to the counter and grabbed her plate before disappearing into her room to change.

Sam stared on at Andy's retreating form as she turned the corner into her bedroom and only started on his way back outside when her lean and muscled legs disappeared.

 

* * *

 

 

Sam was well done with his run to the lumber yard and had just turned onto Ruth's driveway when he flicked the radio off and saw Andy running just up ahead of him. She was dressed in shorts, that weren't much longer than the ones she'd been wearing in the kitchen, and a bright blue tank top, one of those fancy ones from the yoga stores.

She was -- interesting. Amusing. Naive, seemingly, but smart too. He wasn't really sure what to make of her just yet. But he wanted to spend more time with her to find out though. And it kind of bothered him. Three weeks he'd been back so far. Was looking forward to a normal visit. See his sister, do some work for Ruth, work through his shit and then go home. Finding interest in a college girl wasn't expected, but it was probably harmless. They'd see each other every day, might as well become as acquainted with her as he is with Ruth. How could that be a harmful thing? She's just nice. Easy to talk to.

He continued to crawl up the driveway behind her, watching the sweat stain on her back become increasingly larger as she raced up the small incline.  He briefly wondered why she hadn't heard him or if she was simply ignoring him, but then he took notice to the band around her arm carrying an iPod, and saw the buds in her ears.

She had a steady rhythm going, her breathing was well timed, and he took another look at her legs, watching carefully as each muscle engaged and pushed and then flexed when they landed again. She was no recreational runner, she did this every day.

He pulled a little ahead of her, finally getting her attention. Andy jumped to the side, startled, and then when she noticed it was only Sam, she smiled and took a deep breath.

A nose nudged at Sam's elbow and when he raised it, a golden retriever rested there, under his arm and atop the console.

"Hey, you scared the crap out of me." She laughed, approaching his window.

Sam pet the dogs head and smiled in return.

"Guess we're even."

"Guess so. Who's this?" She asked, resting her front against the truck and grinning at the dog who'd just made his presence known.

"Why don't you hop in, I'll drive you the rest of the way up, you two can get acquainted."

He waited on her answer while she considered the offer, but after drawing her eyebrows together and wrinkling her nose in thought, she shook her head.

"No, I should walk the rest. Stretch out. What's his name?" She began walking forward again.

Sam pressed just lightly on the gas, lurching forward, and then eased off again until the truck was crawling.

"Boo."

She stopped her walk and Sam was forced to brake again, frustrated since he'd only just found the proper weight to put on the gas.

"Boo?! What, did your girlfriend name him?" She chuckled, trying to hide her smirk, only a little.

"Very funny. No. It's Boo, like Boo Radley. You know, To Kill-"

"A Mocking Bird. Yeah, I know. I love that book." She said softly, approval shining in her eyes.

"Yeah. I dunno. I always liked that, for a dog."

He didn't really mean to let that slip, so he just closed his mouth in tight grin and then dropped it, looking over to his whining four legged companion.

The dog's pleas grew more and more urgent, and loud, so Sam sighed and opened up his door. The lab jumped over Sam's lap and down onto the gravel, surprising Andy a little, and whined at her feet, doing his very best to be a good dog and refrain from jumping on her.

Andy's lips turned up as she sunk onto her knees to properly say hello, and Sam watched the dog walk on the spot, tail wagging frantically as his whines got louder, loving the attention. Eventually, Boo calmed and sat leaning against her, mouth open to pant, eyes relaxed, relishing in how thoroughly she scratched at his sides and pet the top of his head in long, firm strokes.

"He's so cute. How old is he?"

"He's only six. I've had him for five years though."

She looked up at him, dodging the dogs searching tongue and her smile stretched.

"You adopted him?"

"Yup. Sarah volunteered at the SPCA up here for a while. She suggested it."

"Wow. That's a pretty great thing to do." She noted, laughing when Boo tried to knock her over with his body, just trying to get closer. "And he's adorable."

"Yeah, he's not bad."

Sam thought about her statement. 'A great thing to do'. Adopting pets seemed a pretty normal thing to do. But here was Andy on the ground, playing with his dog, telling him that it's amazing he opened his door to this animal. Like he was doing Boo a favour, and not the other way around. It had been the other way around.

Sam was all for watching her totally calm the pup, getting him in all the right spots. She scratched up behind his head, tossing it from side to side enough that Boo got playful all over again. He bounded away from her, and crouched his shoulders little, butt up and tail wagging. She laughed at the dog, but stood instead of engage in anymore play.

Boo was obviously disappointed, but brushed by her legs one more time in an attempt to get a little more affection.

"I'm starting to get stiff, I should keep moving."

"Yeah, yeah, sorry to interrupt your run. I'll see you back up at the house."

Sam opened the door to the dog and Boo took a run before jumping up, impressively, and crawled into the back seat again.

He gave her a wave, and watched her wave back before putting weight on the gas and moved up the drive again.

In his rear view mirror he watched her watch the truck. And then she shook out each leg, and kept moving.

 

* * *

 

 

She was tempted to keep being Sam's shadow, but he seemed very focused on unloading everything from the flat bed in a timely fashion. So other than the noise his work created, and the occasional call for Boo to lie down, or move, she didn't hear from him for the rest of the afternoon.

Thinking about her last twenty-four hours, she realized that she had hardly interacted with Ruth alone. And while it was all strategic, all by her own design, she felt guilt creeping up on her. She was trying to put as much distance as she could between them, but she knew maybe she needed to tone it down. This was a double edged sword, the distance. It wasn't going to hurt her any less, being distance, than it might to get close.

So after Andy changed out of her sweaty clothes, and had a quick rinse in the shower, she grabbed a book out of her duffle bag and made her way out of the house. She stopped on the porch when she saw Boo lying in the shade, and gave him a quick pat, before continuing on her way to the gazebo.

A breeze picked up while she approached, and the chimes back on the porch chimed softly behind her. Ruth was sitting on the cushioned love seat in the shadiest corner, rocks holding down a file of loose paper on a small wooden table next to her, and she was peering down the edge of her nose through her glasses at her laptop's screen.

She didn't turn her attention to Andy until the stairs made a little noise, giving her away, and Ruth looked up, surprised. But despite that surprise, a smile graced her lips and Andy felt a little more at ease.

"Hey... Gran." She said, hesitant. Ruth looked a little overcome when the word slipped out, and her eyes turned down sadly for just a moment before she was able to compose herself.

"Hello, Ducky." She sighed, shifting in the seat to make room for Andy.

Andy took in a sharp breath, hearing herself be called that again. _That_ was a pet name she was used to. That was what she'd been fearing hearing since her grandmother pulled up to her dad's apartment.

She approached the open end of the seat slowly, and her grandmother turned her attention back to her work, almost as if reading the apprehension in Andy's eyes. Without feeling the scrutiny of watching eyes, she sat down, and didn't budge when her arm came into contact with Ruth's.

Ruth simply moved her arm, hanging it over the back of the seat as she read whatever was on her screen.

Andy held her tattered book tightly between two hands, willing herself to pull it open and just read.

But she knew that she'd be doing a lot more than that. This was like going into a time machine. Forgiving anything that has happened in the past without really delving into it. Which was going to be a mistake, she knew it. But she did it anyway. Andy opened her old copy of Jane Eyre. The one Ruth gave her, and buried herself in its pages.

Breathing in the cedar and staring at the print, she was ten years old again.

She was a hundred pages in before they were interrupted by a cloud passing over the sun, darkening their whole little paradise for only a moment. But Andy felt a crick in her back and had the urge to correct it.

It was only then that she'd noticed, she'd been leaning into her grandmother's side, and that Ruth wasn't really doing her own work anymore.

Ruth was running Andy's hair between her fingers, reading along with her, chin perched on her head.

Warmth spread through Andy's veins at the satisfaction she felt. Being comforted like a little girl again, feeling protected and comforted again, like there were no evils in the world.

That's when Andy felt the ache inside her. This unsettling knot that had her wanting to double over and puke at the same time.

That's when Andy had the urge to run.


	4. We're spinning circles down the avenues instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I got away from my story timeline, so I explored some territory I hadn't previously thought about. It may not fit in quite right.

Her first week at the house went by slowly. Slowly, to the point that it shocked her. She and Ruth were getting more settled, though she didn't dare get so comfortable that they'd have another afternoon like the one in the gazebo. That didn't sit right with her, or rather her resolve to not get attached. She didn't want to be in that situation again. So she did her best not to pull away completely. Just... pull back a little. She didn't call her Gran, and Ruth didn't call her Ducky. It was better that way anyhow.

She got a routine down quickly. She woke up at a reasonable time, ranging from 8am to 9, ate breakfast then went for a run. Following her run would be a nice cool shower, a snack, and then she'd enjoy a cup of coffee on the porch, usually the side that overlooked Sam's work space. He rarely came as early as he did the morning he woke her. But he had no schedule, he came and went whenever. Her afternoons were either spent with a book or going through the boxes of her things that were sitting in the attic, after Ruth asked if there was anything she still wanted.

Then the late afternoon and evening would usually be sitting outside again, waiting for Ruth to come along and chat Sam up since she rarely felt like interfering while he was around the power tools. She understood the summer wouldn't be a thrilling one, but it was moving more slowly than she anticipated.

But at least there were days of the week where things were changed up, and a different rhythm set in.

 

* * *

 

Andy watched as Boo ran circles around Sam as he unloaded the roofing tin from the truck a couple of days later, barking and howling, demanding he be allowed to have free run of the property.

"Okay." Sam said sharply, gesturing widely, letting Boo know he was free.

He heaved the sheets onto his shoulder and carried them out to the base of the to-be-greenhouse structure, and let them crash to the ground, banging against one another. Then he checked his wrist watch, and looked to her bedroom window, and a small smile crept to her mouth. He must be wondering if she was awake yet.

"Sam!" Cecelia called out from her sear at the table. Sam looked off to the gazebo, where Andy was sitting on the steps, her grandmother and her friends crowded around a table. He turned towards them and raised his hand in a wave, and Andy kept a smile of her own pressed tightly between her lips.

"Hello Mrs. Irving." Sam called back, then nodded to Ruth who sat there smiling, amused.

Today, Andy learned, was the weekly cribbage get together. A couple of Ruth's neighbours from way down the road stopped by to gossip and sip iced tea, the game a simple excuse. Ruth told her sometimes they abandoned the crib game only a couple of hands in, start talking about the accomplishments of their children and grandchildren, the secrets of the housewives in town, things overheard at the hair salon. Sam had overheard it all. Ruth doubts there isn't one bit of gossip he's missed.

Cecelia returned his wave, a raised eyebrow and playful smile on her lips, Andy watched Sam get a little sheepish, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He turned away quite quickly, pretending to be too busy to chat. They liked to flirt with him, and it was harmless, Ruth said.

Sometimes he even played along, but today, with Andy sitting on the gazebo steps reading her book, he must not have felt like he could get away with it. Ruth was bad enough, teasing him well after they leave. That was kind of becoming their thing... getting on each other's cases.

"I do love when the weather changes. I wish you hosted every week Ruth." Cecelia noted, catching Andy's attention, as she was practically yelling it after Sam. "Those t-shirts..."

"Cecelia." Ruth warned, laughing along all the while.

"When it's too warm for a t-shirt at all-"

"Cecelia!"

"Oh Ruth, I'm just admiring the scenery. Arthur maybe cynical and have a bum knee, but I love him. He's _my_ cynic."

"And even then, Arthur didn't look like that back in his prime." Patty snickered, ignoring Cecelia's glare. "A fine specimen that man is ladies. No doubt about it."

Andy shook her head, laughing along with the other two women at the table and tried to focus on her place on the page again, but wasn't allowed to.

"Andy, dearest, you're unattached aren't you?" Patty remarked, sounding so much like her Great Aunt Matilda.

Andy just smiled tightly, nodding, not trusting herself to say something sweet and polite in return.

She watched Patty's eyebrow go up and her lips purse, and immediately dove back into the pages of her book, wishing she had the ability to teleport herself out of there. Hell, she'd go and hang around Sam instead, but she didn't think she could deal with the little old' ladies looks and laughs.

"He's unattached as well. Right Ruth?"

"I think so, yes... He hasn't been back long. We haven't chatted much. But- he's here. I can't imagine a girlfriend being aright with such a long absence." Her grandmother noted.

Andy thought about that. His "long absence", as Ruth put it, from the city. Why there seemed to be so many in his life. Who is this man? Who leaves their lives behind to fix an old lady's house and deal with a not-so-nice sister anyway?

Why does she want to know so badly?

"Hmm. You should offer him a lemonade." Cecelia laughed, giving Andy a suggestive look that had her on her feet in two seconds flat.

"Andy, Love, sit down, they're just being uh. What do you call them? Cougars?" Ruth laughed, scooping up the card deck and the board. "We'll go inside, you stay out here. It's gotten too windy anyway."

Ruth was already standing before Andy could object, and her friends followed, offering cheeky smiles on their way by, making her feel foolish.

She can take teasing. She got it all the time. Hazing, ribbing, goading... she's a good sport. But, for some reason, she just feels exposed in front of her grandmother. Ruth has always been looking right past her tells and walls since she was a kid, and she feels like it's not much different. She feels like she doesn't have a poker face anymore.

She continued standing on the steps as the women disappear into the house and watched Sam  measure the tin on his makeshift bench, scribbling down numbers on his yellow pad of paper every so often.

He was leaned over, staring at the page, deep in thought, blocking everything out; Boo, who was splashing around in the creek, cooling off, the ladies hooting and laughing in the living room now...  and her. Though she was doing nothing to attract attention... she felt oddly irrelevant without his.

She dog eared her page and laid the book on the stair she was on, making her way down to the grass. Boo intercepted her on her way to Sam, drawing attention to himself after sniffing her properly, placing where he knew her from. He followed close behind her as she marched on to his owner, whining a little, tail wagging quickly behind him.

That got Sam's attention, the whining, and he looked up to Andy with a confused look on his face.

"What's up?" He asked, figuring she was interrupting for a good reason.

Maybe she should've brought him something to drink. But he hadn't actually done any physical labour yet...

"Don't you have a day job?" She blurted instead, regretting it almost immediately.

Sam's eyebrows crept up and he took a tiny step back, opening himself up to Andy, facing her now, maybe to get a handle on which field that flew out of.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I mean- I- What do you... do?" She asked again, this time honestly just asking, not trying to-

She just wants a better handle on him.

"What do I do?" He repeated, eyebrows drawn together and eyes squinted, making her feel even more insane.

"Well, you're up here a lot, apparently, but you live in the city... This just seems like a getaway place or something. So I was just wondering..."

She felt as stupid as she was acting, but unfortunately being self aware didn't stop her. The beat where Sam's face went from 'what the hell' to slightly more understanding calmed her very little. She still felt like a petulant child mostly, with how he was watching her.

"I'm a cop."

And it became Andy's turn to take a step back.

That she did not see coming. A little warning from Ruth might've been nice. Especially since she had been so quick to tell Sam about how she wanted to be one as a child, and maybe because there was a bit of a rough patch when she asked about his education.

"Seriously?" She asked, genuinely surprised. Shocked, even.

"What, that so hard to believe?" He smiled, tightly, a little sarcastic as he turned back to his table, leaning over it again, looking at the numbers on the page.

"Yeah... since you didn't mention it before." She scoffed back.

She didn't know what to expect when she asked him, but it wasn't that.

"And since when do cop's get months off at a time? I mean, I think I'd remember that being a perk of the job. My dad-"

"Is a detective, I know, Andy. I'm in the TPS too." He sighed, picking up his measuring tape again. "I'm a UC cop. Trying to get a spot in Guns and Gangs."

"As a detective?"

"Yeah."

"So you're technically a detective?"

"I guess."

"And how old are you?" She blurted, once again, just satisfying her curiosity while she was already on a rampage.

"Twenty-eight. What does that matter?"

Andy stopped as he continued past her to grab some wood, sliding it onto the table to be cut.

"So why didn't you tell me?" She asked, studying his build, his face too. The face that didn't seem to be giving much away right now. Other than that she was annoying him.

"Why didn't I tell you I'm a cop?"

"Yeah."

"It didn't come up."

Andy groaned, dropping her head back in frustration, then rubbed at her temples.

"Um, how can you say that? It totally did!"

"We were talking about you, not me." He said simply, standing up face her again. He was holding something in his hands now, something she hadn't seen him pick up.

He handed her a pair of safety glasses, before dropping a pair over his own eyes, and she noticed that this conversation didn't warrant a break in his efforts. So she really did have awful timing with him.

"You might want to plug your ears." He said, turning to the ban saw, ready to bring it down.

She listened to him, slipping the glasses on first, and watched him get saw the massive beam.

When he let go and the motor stopped, he took the small piece of scrap wood, and turned tossing it into the back of his truck. But while his back was turned, the larger piece began to slip off the table now that it's mass had lessened and it's weight no longer evenly distributed, threatening to tumble onto the clueless dogs head.

Andy saw it out of the corner of her eye and turned back quickly, wrapping both her arms around it quickly. It was heavier than she expected and the grunt that came from her lips caught Sam's attention. He didn't waste any time chasing Boo away and helping her heave it back up.

It took her a moment to slow her heartbeat, trying not to think about what might've happened if she hadn't caught it.

"Dumb mutt," Sam breathed as they dropped it down, crisis averted. "And you. you can't just come over here while I'm working, you're distracting me."

Andy grinned smugly, enjoying that fact that he had lost his cool the second time in the short time they've known each other.

"Please, that was not my fault."

"Well the dog loves you, so yeah, he follows you around and _that_ happens. He usually leaves me alone."

She took a minute to stop fighting him and smiled proudly, happy that the dog liked her that much. That he hated how much Boo loved her. As much as he had made her nervous, she really liked this, getting him wound up. Making that little vain in his neck pop, making his eyes pop out of his head a little.

She couldn't understand why, but more than all that, she loved watching the way his chest heaved as his breathing went back to normal after yelling. Well, he hasn't _yelled_. But raised his voice to win an argument.

"No, you know what it is?"

"What?" He snapped, shortly, not finding as much amusement in this as her.

"You need another set of hands."

It took a minute for Sam to understand what she was saying, but eventually his face went to pure disbelief and he laughed.

"What, you?"

"Yeah, me. You don't have to pay me, and I don't have anything better to do anyway."

"Nice." He said sarcastically. "You know you're supposed to be spending time with Ruth, right?"

"Oh please. I can't be with her every waking minute. Besides, this is the first summer I haven't worked since I was fifteen, I'm getting restless."

Sam seemed to consider it for a moment, before shaking his head, but Andy jumped in one last time before he could refuse her.

"Just one week. If at the end of the week, you don't want me to keep helping, then I'll stop." She insisted, trying to come off more sincere now that she was asking a favour of him.

He seemed to have cooled off from the whole 'you're in my way' spiel, and was now expelling a long and rough breath, groaning as he nodded in agreement.

"Sam, seriously, I'm not going to be in the way. I just need something to do."

"Well we're not short of that." He said, one corner of his mouth turned up as he reached into his back pocket.

He produced the list for the week. Things Ruth wanted looked at or fixed, and it was endless. Things that really didn't need to be done.

Clean out the gutters, although it hadn't rained at all in the week and a half she'd been there. Paint the shutters, though it looks like no one  has given them any thought in the last twenty years. Add gravel to the driveway.

Other than the odd fix ups inside, and the obvious upkeep outside, the jobs seemed like busy work. And Andy couldn't imagine why her grandmother was thinking up reasons to keep Sam around.

"If you're a UC cop, that doesn't explain why you're up here for so long."

He was refolding the list when that idea popped out of her mouth, and he stopped for a moment, before turning his gaze to her, shields up, from what she could tell.

"Once you've done a job, you get time off." He said coldly, eyes down, not caring to elaborate.

She knew that. But it was usually weeks, not months. But Sam didn't stick around for the follow up, he picked up the beam and carried it away, making room for something else.

"You can start tomorrow."

 

* * *

 

Andy left Sam alone the rest of the day. She wasn't really sure where they were after that abrupt end to the conversation. She knew she definitely wasn't going to revisit the topic of his latest undercover stint, but man did she feel like she was on a dangerous edge with him. Working so closely might not be the best idea anymore. But she was in it now.

She came back into the house to find quiet, oddly enough. The ladies were shushing each other when she came around the corner to the living room, and they were all giving themselves away with just their faces. Cecelia was concentrating awfully hard on her cards, refusing to look at Andy, Patty couldn't keep the smile off her lips and not so subtle looks at Andy, and Ruth just looked sorry. They probably heard a great deal of the conversation, the loud parts at least.

Andy just shrugged it off, smiling, barely, and disappeared into her bedroom, closing the door a little too loudly.

 

* * *

 

Her first day with Sam...

She should've been prepared, considering how they left things the day before. He wasn't feeling conversation. Every so often, whether out of irritation or habit, he'd clench the fingers of his left hand into a fist, and would grimace in response. Sometimes it happened to be when she spoke, but after she shut up for a few minutes, she noticed him doing it still.

He was making good progress on the greenhouse, from her limited understanding. He had the walls built, he just needed to put them on. Once he had that done, he could put the roofing tin in the sides, and all that was left was to find what material he was going to use for the clear roof. But that had little to do with her.

"Sam?"

"What?" He replied, head still down, trying to get the last few frames of the last wall totally secure.

Andy had wanted to apologize, or say something that might make him smile, make this a little less torturous for them both. But she came up empty when she opened her mouth.

She would've stayed quiet, but Sam finally, finally looked at her, and for the first time, he didn't look mad or irritated. So she didn't bring it up again.

"Want some water?" She finally asked, pushing herself up from her kneeling position next to Sam.

His eyes softened slightly, reminding her that he didn't always wear a stony expression, and he nodded.

"Thanks yeah. And if you're hungry, you know, take a break. Sometimes I forget to do that." He admitted, leaning away from the work in front of him, stretching his legs slowly as he stood.

Andy nodded and was about to leave him be when he reached for elbow, and held on to stop her, and then some.

"Andy, I'm uh- Thanks for helping me out. I think this is gonna be a good thing."

She grinned a little, hearing him say that, unprompted, and she wasn't forgetting what she'd been wanting to say either.

"And I'm sorry about yesterday. You don't need to tell me anything. It's none of my business. Sometimes I just push too hard. I get it."

Andy took a step back toward him, since her feet had been on either side of his toolbox when he turned her.

"Nothing I can't handle, McNally." He smirked, tongue poking the side of his cheek. "It wasn't you. It's my sister. Sometimes she just, gets under my skin."

"She shouldn't mess with a guy with a badge." Andy joked, getting a wider smile out of Sam.

"That kind of thing means very little to Sarah."

"Yeah, but apparently there isn't much you can't handle. I mean, you're basically a handy man extraordinaire."

Sam finally just shook his head slightly, eyes dropping from her stare and he pulled away a bit, causing her to realize how close her step forward had brought them.

"Uh, Sarah kinda gets a pass with me. She's- She hasn't had an easy life. Not by any stretch."

Andy perked up at that admission, and while she wanted to press, while she wanted to him to offer more than that. She didn't press. She took another step away, clearing the tool box this time.

"I'll be back in just a sec."

 

* * *

 

 

After a quiet dinner that night, Andy asked Ruth about Sarah, about how they met, how often they spoke, and her relationship with Sam. Andy's inquisitive nature didn't manage to escape Ruth's attention, and she thought about what drove Andy's thirst for knowledge when it came to Sam. She finally fully believed what she thought when the two had first met. There was an energy there. One they needed to explore.

"Why does Sam come up to see her for so long?" Andy asked, having checked off most things on her list.

"Dear, you can keep asking me all these roundabout questions, but eventually we'll only be left with the one you really want the answers to."

Andy sunk in her seat a bit under the eye of her grandma.

"What happened to her?"

Ruth seemed surprised that Andy had put that much together. That there was one large event that had Sarah pegged differently than anyone else she and Sam talked about. With a detective for a father, she shouldn't be surprised, but she is. Now she wonders if Andy would be able to be anything other than a cop.

Ruth put her mug of tea down in front of herself, thinking about how much to say, if she should redirect her to Sam. She shuts that thought down quickly, seeing as Sam was too unpredictable in that respect. It may be better if Andy knows and then she'll put a cap on this line of questioning. It tempted her, but even Andy knew what was coming.

"Something no young girl, no woman, should endure Andy. I'm sure you know what I mean." She said, vaguely, hoping it was enough to keep her quiet on the subject. Quiet until Sam, if he chooses, discloses more information.

Andy nodded solemnly, a little resigned, as Ruth expected. She leaned forward in her seat, placing a hand over Andy's, stroking her thumb over her knuckles briefly.

"And if you have any questions, about our family, all you need to do is ask Andy. Those answers, I can give you."

Andy pulled her hand back, not right away and not abruptly. But Ruth knew she went one step too far. That subject was one that Andy was no where ready to broach.

"Thanks," She replied quietly, her edge of control slipping.

"Goodnight, Love."

"Goodnight."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure I'm super pleased with this after all, but here it is.

**A/N: Sorry for my absence. Working all summer, hard to catch a break. But now school's back and so are my procrastination habits. Lucky you.**

  

* * *

 

"You haven't given me a real job." Andy noted, several days later while she and Sam were taking a snack break.

They were sitting with their legs dangling under the porch, arms hanging over the middle bar of the railing.

"That's because you're my assistant."

"What, like a magician? Puh-lease." She took another bite from her apple and continued swinging her legs. "I promise I won't come after you with power tools. I'm just sick of holding the hammer while you do the real work."

Sam laughed and turned his head to look at her, still chewing his own apple. "That right? Promise?"

"Cross my heart." She smiled in return, liking the light in Sam's eyes and the smile he tried to hide by running his tongue over his teeth.

"I'll think about it McNally. I'm not the type to hand out promotions."

"Oh. _Promotions_. You wound me. I thought this was more of a partnership type deal."

Sam side eyed her for a brief moment, amusement still lighting his big eyes, and she held his gaze evenly till he shook his head, dropping the act.

"We'll talk about when the trial period is over." He joked, throwing the apple core into the bushes, and reaching for the second half of his sandwich.

It had been a good morning so far. Now that he'd tapped into Andy a little more, gotten her guard down a little, actually participated in the conversations she was constantly starting and finishing on her own, things were easier. She was easy to talk to, and when they got onto the right subject, he found himself sharing thoughts he hadn't before. She had this way of asking just the right questions, stepping around all the right borders to get just what she had wanted to hear. He wasn't sure whether it was her gift, or his curse, but he didn't mind that she figured him out a little more day by day.

"Do you do a lot of work on your own house? In the city, I mean."

Sam nodded thoughtfully, taking a bite from the sandwich she'd made him.

"Doesn't need much. Don't have a big backyard or anything."

"Yeah, I guess you don't seem like the type to make up projects."

"What do you mean?"

Andy dropped her head, scolding herself for putting her foot in her mouth again.

"I - It just seems like these jobs Ruth has you doing... they don't all need doing." Andy didn't really think it was fair for her to jump in and say it, but she stuck her neck out half way, too late to pull back. "I mean, don't get me wrong, yard work and upkeep, yeah. But... I mean, regrouting the tile?"

Sam chuckled, wondering when Andy would catch on to the silliness of Ruth's lists. He knew Andy was watching him, confused while he laughed, but he also thought she'd learned a little more about her grandma in the week she'd been there.

"I don't know what to tell you McNally. Me and Ruth we have an - an understanding." He tried to get her to see without saying the words, but she wasn't picking it up so he shook his head, effectively ending that portion of the conversation. "Doesn't matter. I've got to run into town. Wanna come?"

"What're we getting?"

"Food, for tonight."

Sunday already, Andy had almost forgotten.

"Right, cause the kitchen isn't already overflowing."

It was no exaggeration, Ruth had the pantry and fridge absolutely stuffed. With two extra mouths around, both doing manual labour, she wasn't going to let anyone go hungry.

"I know a guy who can get me great steaks for a great price, c'mon. It's a paid break."

"I'm not getting paid at all." She smirked.

"Exactly, so let's go."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"So you like classic rock?" Andy asked, ten minutes and three station changes later. She'd tried to put on a top forty station, and he immediately tensed up, trying not to make a face. He failed. Andy took one other guess before landing on a rock station.

Boo sat between them in the front of the truck and laid his head down on Andy's lap. She stroked his head while he grumbled happily, lucky to be taken along in the first place.

_"Is Boo coming too?"_

_Sam looked back over his shoulder as she stood on the porch, watching Boo sleep on the grass._

_"Naw, he can stay with here."_

_"Oh come on, he'd love going for a car ride."_

_As soon as the words left her mouth Boo was up and wagging his tail already running to the truck. Sam gave her a stare and Boo jumped in the driver door that he'd been holding open._

 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm a big Rush fan." He said passively, eyes gazing at the pavement as he drove down the road.

"Who?"

"Yeah I like the Who. The Eagles, Kiss, Def Leppard-"

Andy snorted, cutting him off as he looked at her with his eyes squinting in confusion, eyebrows down.

"What?"

"Figures you wouldn't mind a little 'Pour Some Sugar on Me'. Classic stripper song. Ever date one?"

"What? No! Andy..." He didn't know quite how to deal with that question. Had he ever dated a stripper. Why would he possibly want to know that.

She eased off after that while they rolled down the open road. Sam appreciated the break while he tried to figure what any of that even meant.

Andy kept a satisfied smile on her lips, thinking of how she'd been able to knock him off his game there for a moment.

She watched out the window as the kept driving through a thick wood, keeping an open eye out for wildlife while she continued to pet and subdue Boo. But she tired of it after not too long.

So she turned to look instead at Sam. She did that a lot, the last few days. Hell, she'd only been there a week, and she'd be doing it whenever he was at the house. His uniform of jeans and a t-shirt didn't vary or waver. It had been a steady mix of black, white and red shirts, no v-necks. She hates to side with the older ladies, but she had been guilty of checking the weekly weather forecast, hoping for a little more heat.

But he was more than eye candy. He proved that every day. Ever since that one bad day, she's been a little better at getting pieces of him. As small as learning how he takes his coffee so she can have it waiting when he gets there, to hearing about his friends at work.

She liked the way he seemed to relax when he talked about things he liked. His job, his friends, Boo, his sister, even Ruth. He was different, lighter. But sometimes she'd go a hair too far, and the blank face would come back.

So she decided that she would at least lay down the basics this week. Get out of him what you'd find out about an actor in a cosmo article. His favourite things, likes and dislikes.

It wasn't till they got closer to town that she started back up again.

"Hmm. What kind of movies do you like?" She then asked, trying to peg down which of their tastes might overlap.

She appreciated classic rock. She understood the importance of a good steel guitar, but other than that she was a sucker for a good hook in a pop song. Songs that infected you and got stuck in your head, that was her taste.

"I'm not picky."

"But you don't like rom-coms?"

"On principle? No. No, there aren't many romantic comedies I'd watch if not forced." He chuckled, breaking his stare from the road to raise his eyebrows at her. "Are we speed dating right now?"

"No, I just... Sometimes I think you're a hard read, but sometimes you're predictable."

"Is that bad?"

"I dunno. A cop who likes handy work and classic rock, who's probably into action movies and history films... it's not exactly original." She laughed.

Sam stuck his tongue in his cheek, hoping she'll continue, give him some ammo to use in return.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean, that's my dad too. Cop cliche." She nodded giving him a smile.

"Well I'll tell you what McNally." He began to say as he turned on his turn signal and the truck slowed as they turned into the parking lot of a supermarket. "I even like donuts and coffee too."

When she threw her head back against the rest and laughed , a real big, genuine laugh... he knew he was in trouble.

* * *

 

 

"So how about steak, potatoes, peas and a salad?" He asked, as they walked the aisle of the grocery store, just fifteen minutes after they'd met Sam's butcher.

She nodded vacantly, scanning the ice cream selection, before his words sunk in, and she whipped around.

"Peas _and_ salad?" She scrunched up her nose as Sam nodded, reaching for the bag of frozen peas.

"C'mon, vegetables won't kill you."

"Peas might."

He chuckled and reached past her to the opposite door and grabbed two cartons of ice cream.

"And pistachio ice cream? Are you kidding?"

"That's for me. The chocolate is for you and Ruth. And some frozen peas in the house wouldn't hurt. Since I've got you bruising yourself every other minute of the day."

She wanted to protest but she had banged her hip into the side of the truck a couple times. And dropped a can of paint on her toes.

"Well pistachio is disgusting."

They left the aisle quickly, Andy rubbing her hands up and down her arms quickly, trying to warm herself back up.

"I bet you've never even tried it."

She didn't respond, she simply marched ahead to retrieve a loaf of French bread from the bakery. Sam leaned his forearms against the cart handle and watched her for a moment. Today she opted for a pair a of cut offs and a slightly over sized shirt from a charity run. The kind of thing that she typically for working with him. But those shorts were new. She'd been wearing her running shorts, which had more length to them...

Not that he minded the view.

In recent days he'd become pretty wrapped up in certain parts of her. Her legs had him from day one, or two, or something. But the other day when they were sitting on the porch, she took a long drink of water and he studied her neck. Juggler exposed to him, the sharp line of her jaw, soft skin... he had an overwhelming urge to suck those spots till they were well marked. It was one of the most vivid images he's had since noticing his attraction, and he had to go around the house for a minute to recover. He couldn't be spending all day with her thinking about doing _that_.

And while he was able to put it out of his mind if he tried, absentminded thoughts teased him. Like now, watching her legs as she moved through the displays of sweets and breads.

He was able to refocus his gaze when she turned back to face him, approaching with a sleeved loaf in one hand, and a box of apple turnovers in the other.

"C'mon. I know we parked in the shade but we don't want Boo to get too hot." She said, dropping them in the cart and marching right past him.

 

* * *

 

They had been on the road not fifteen minutes when they heard the pop. The pop that was unmistakeable, and had Sam letting out a string of curses as he pulled over on the shoulder quickly.

"Jesus Christ." He spat, leaning all the way out his window to look at the rear left tire. "Shit."

Andy stayed quiet as he got out of the truck and went around the side to take a look at it. She watched in his side mirror as he scrubbed a hand over his mouth while he was crouched down next to the tire.

"Do you have a spare?" She finally called out, breaking the tense silence.

Boo raised his head finally when he noticed his owners absence and began whining.

"Nope." He yelled back, forehead now resting in his hand. "Can you call Ruth for me? We're going to need her to come get us. I'll call a tow."

And he did. They got Boo out of the truck along with all of the things he'd need in the next couple of days and waited, Andy unsure of what to say. She really wanted to ask why he didn't have one on him, but refrained. Briefly.

" _Why_ don't you have a spare?"

"It's in Toronto. I brought a lot of new furniture for Sarah. She has an antiqueing problem. Leaves them in storage till I come up. The truck was riding low, I had to take it off."

Andy nodded, taking in yet another piece of him and his life.

"So does Sarah come to Toronto a lot?"

"If you don't mind, McNally, I'd rather not talk right now."

She nodded, and shifted her weight a little uncomfortably, gripping Boo's leash tightly.

After about a minute of silence, she began to feel uncomfortable. Felt the need to say something to make Sam less agitated.

"We could play 20 questions..." She suggested weakly, stealing a glance at him.

He exhaled loudly, eyes closed, head tilted back, and then flashes her a sarcastic smile.

"Isn't that what we were doing on our way here?"

"I was just asking a few questions, geez."

"Yeah, because it's pertinent that you know if I ever dated a stripper, right?"

"That one just kinda slipped out."

"Why do I get the feeling that happens a lot with you?"

Andy shrugged her shoulders and looked back to the ground, thinking it can only be another ten minutes till Ruth arrives.

"I have a bit of an allergy, to silence. I've been told."

While traffic rushes by them on the road, Sam took a moment to breathe and calm his frustration. Andy tagging along had been the best part of his day. He liked not driving alone for once, she was much better than the silence that usually left him with nothing but his own thoughts. She was bright, and smart, and witty, and she kept him on his toes.

"That's not necessarily a bad thing." He said, quieter now.

She raised her head to stare at him while he looked at her, eyes apologetic, and face soft.

"No?"

"No. My whole life people have been asking me why I'm so serious. Why I'm quiet and keep to myself. Being an extrovert... it's definitely not bad, Andy."

She smiled at him, but made no further comments of her own. And he had given her a small smile back, but, it wasn't his usual one sided, dimpled, smile.

"So you've always been like this?"

"Yeah, pretty much." He admitted, without any additional commentary for her.

"Can't be good in relationships."

"Okay, Dr. Phil, enough about me. I think I'd rather play twenty questions."

* * *

 

 

Once Ruth and the tow truck reached them and they got everything squared away, Ruth took them home, an oddly quiet ride back to the house, twenty questions long forgotten.

Andy left them right as the dropped the grocery bags on the counter and disappeared into the bathroom to have a shower, leaving Sam and Ruth alone to get dinner started. Though he couldn't be absolutely sure, he felt like Ruth was looking at him differently. Sizing him up somehow and he didn't know what to make of it or if he should say something.

"So you two have a good day?" She asked as she began marinating the steaks, Sam at the cutting board, chopping vegetables for the salad.

"Yeah, you know, the usual."

"How was your trip to the store?"

"Uneventful."

"You two seem to be getting friendlier."

Sam laughed, straight out, now that he knew what her look had been about. He turned around and leaned back against the counter, trying to get Ruth to do the same so they could have a proper conversation.

"Ruth-"

"I'm just saying, you're getting along well."

"Ruth." He tried again.

She turned around, using a piece of paper towel to wipe the meat residue from her hands.

There was a look on her face he'd never seen before. It was pleading, as though he'd asked her to tell him which of her children she loved more. And it wiped the smile off of his face in record time.

"I don't know if you realize Sam, but you two spending so much time together... something's going to happen."

"Ruth, she's practically a kid, I'm not going to-"

"She isn't, Sam. She's a young woman. She's smart and beautiful and I know you see that."

He hung his head, wishing she wasn't as good at reading him as she was.

"Andy has been through some things, and her father and I agreed some time away was exactly what she needed. And I agree that helping you will also be good for her."

Ruth's face had changed since their conversation began. While he tensed, she relaxed, not having wanted to be giving this speech, not wanting to treat Sam like a kid. She didn't want to be speaking to him as though she had any control in his life when they both knew she wouldn't.

"As far as I'm concerned, anything happening between you two, could be good."

He was not prepared for that. His eyes popped open and his jaw dropped a little, announcing his surprise.

"But, I'm still her grandmother, Sam. I don't want her falling too hard too fast and sending her back to her father worse off. Not that I think you would be careless. Just... maybe slow things down. Get to know one another, truly. That's all I ask."

Sam nodded solemnly and Ruth offered a smile.

And as they went back to their individual tasks, the weight on Ruth's shoulders lifted, while a new one settled on Sam's.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Just a short one. Hopefully the next one will be full length.**

* * *

 

The weather turned that next week. It was starting to feel more like the early months of June as it was supposed to be, and day by day the degrees crept higher. Andy hoped for thirty by Thursday, but had to settle for twenty-eight. 

She found herself hearing what Cecelia had said the week before about the temperature climbing and layers of Sam's clothing being shed in order to keep cool. Honestly, she thought someone needed to hose her down.

He pulled up to the house that morning wearing a red t-shirt and jeans, same as always, and Andy felt a little naked in her camisole and cut offs. But it was too late to run inside and change.

She'd just have to avoid the accusatory look she'd been getting from her grandmother. But she could neither hope that he notice, or not. Because one made her feel guilty of feelings she didn't want to confront, and the other, unwanted.

So she did her best to stop thinking about the mass amounts of exposed skin and hoped that maybe sometime in the afternoon, they'd be even.

He had stopped on his way over  to buy her an iced coffee, knowing she'd likely skip a hot beverage this morning. She took it from him and couldn't keep a smile off of her face.

 He thought of her. It made her feel better about how much she thought about him too. She handed over his usual hot coffee, because he apparently, had secret powers.

_"Is there a reason you look so cool when it's so hot?" She joked as she greeted Boo, and they walked side by side toward the house._

_"My people come from a warm climate."_

_"You're from Toronto!"_

_"Scarborough, specifically."_

She tried to focus when he showed up that morning and simply get to the tasks on the list, but she found herself peeking over his way as it got closer to noon to see if he'd shed his wife beater yet.

That had been a heart stopping sight - watching him peel off the t-shirt. He'd stretched up after being hunched over his work bench for some time, and cleared his throat before he reached one hand up to the back of his shirt, behind his neck and pulled.

"Andy?"

"Yup?" She asked, doing her best to look him in the eye as though she hadn't been fantasizing about what was underneath...

"Can you go in and ask Ruth which of these two panelling samples she likes best." Sam said, standing right in front of Andy, holding the sheets between them.

She reached for them slowly and her hand grazes his and after everything she'd been thinking, she flinched away at contact. He looked at her, amused and she backed up a couple of steps, trying not to get drawn in.

"Yup. Yup." She squeaked, hurrying up the porch steps.

Creaking, the screen door opened and Andy stepped into the kitchen to see Ruth at her desk with the fan going nearby.

"Hey." Andy said, rushed, with a forced smile on her face.

She loomed there awkwardly holding the samples in her hands, but eyes never met Ruth's. She was still thinking about Sam.

"Andy? What is it?"

"Hmm?" Andy finally looked at her grandmother, and stood there silent for a moment before the question registered. "Oh! Samples, which of these do you like better? For the panelling on the greenhouse."

Ruth's face relaxed and she stood from her desk, and took off her glasses, letting them hang around her neck.

"Sam needs to know?" Ruth asked, wondering what the mention of his name would do to her.

"Mhm." She muttered quickly, handing them over with a little too much force. "I'm just going to get a glass of water."

"Andy..." Ruth started, watching her flustered granddaughter open all the wrong cupboards before finally getting to the one she knew was right all along. "Everything alright?"

Ruth hoped to catch her up like she did Sam. She hoped that if she said the right thing Andy wouldn't bother with denial. But Andy was a different case. She was stubborn and unruly and Ruth wasn't positive that saying something would have a good impact. Andy would swing either way. Rush to him, or away from him... and by consequence, mending their relationship would be out of the question.

Andy took a breath, shoulders sinking a little while she regrouped and when she turned back to Ruth with her full glass of water, she appeared collected.

"Peachy." She chimed, a little sarcastically, turning to walk out of the kitchen.

"Andy..." Ruth sang, trying to catch her attention one last time.

Andy wheeled around to see Ruth holding the preferred panel and she took the steps back to retrieve it.

"I'll have lunch ready in an hour." Ruth called as Andy finally walked out the door.

* * *

 

True to Ruth's word there was lunch not long after, and Andy was able to regroup and actually be a helping hand. But after a quick lunch, Ruth moved her work outside since a cool wind had picked up, and had a bit more observation to do. Andy however, was not really in the mood to get back to work. She watched Boo splay out in the sun on the grass and she thought that nothing sounded better at the moment.

As Sam took to the work area, Andy made her way over to Boo and took a spot next to him, laying on her back and soaking up the rays.

She was uninterrupted for some time which surprised her. Sam was often trying to wave her out of some day dream, but she was down and resting for about twenty minutes when Boo left her.

When he came back, he had a drool soaked tennis ball between his teeth and dropped it on Andy's exposed mid-drift.

"So, you wanna play buddy?" She asked, sitting up, and winding her back. Boo took a couple of steps back, wigging his tail and a big grin on his mouth. "Yeah? You want this?"

Boo barked a couple of times and Andy wound her arm back and sent the ball soaring.

"Do you plan on being a help to me today McNally?" Sam asked, finally calling her out.

"Eventually."

Sam chuckled as he watched her fall back onto the grass then checked on Boo who was retrieving it from the brook.

"You know this was all your grand design, your idea to help out."

Andy let her head fall to the side and she watched as he removed his tool belt. The bench looked cleaned off, the way he did at the end of every day, and he was sitting on the tailgate, finishing his glass of water.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a great partner. But you work me too hard." She whined, turning over and burying her face in her folded arms.

"And you whine too much."

Just as he spoke, Boo returned and dropped the ball on the small of Andy's back. When she didn't budge he barked again.

Sam pushed himself off of the truck and decided to put him out of his misery but when he reached to retrieve the ball, Andy was just rolling over, and the back of his hand grazed the smooth skin of her hip. And she smiled at him

He felt stunted by it for a moment, before reaching his arm down to get the ball that had rolled off.

"I don't whine _that_ much." She insisted as Sam stood to his full height again. "Do I?"

"Well McNally, you're lying around telling me I work you too hard, when all you did was paint for a couple of hours." Sam smirked.

She shot him back a mocking face and proceeded to stick her tongue out at him. Sam threw the ball and Boo eagerly threw himself into a run to retrieve it, and Andy put herself in motion too.

"Oh please."

She walks up behind him and pokes him in the rib, and then scampers past to help load the rest of the scrap wood into his truck but he retaliated. While she was organizing the things that had already piled up he pulled her ponytail back just a bit, and she turned around and feigned a kick to his thigh. But he caught her by the ankle.

"No. Oh no no no no." She said insistently when she saw mischief creep over his face.

He was getting ready to drop her leg and make a move towards her when she wriggled away and started to head around the truck, gain some distance.

"Sam!" She warned again, trying to look serious, but knew she looked more squeamish than anything. "Don't."

She'd done a couple laps around the truck now, and her speed was quickening with his, every time it looked like he was closer.

They stopped though, her at the hood, and him by the tailgate. And then he made a move to climb into the back, but Andy turned and took off for house. Sam hopped off and followed as she ran up the front porch steps, only to run past Ruth, around its side and descend the stairs from the kitchen door just as he was catching up. He was so close to catching her but he missed her by inches. And it was enough for her to get to the hose that was to the left of his bench.

"Wow. McNally, think about this. You don't-"

His words were cut off by the hard spray of cold water and he listened as she laughed. His entire body went rigid as his skin cooled and a shock went down his spine to his toes. He did his best to turn away from her but she'd already gotten him.

He peaked over his shoulder to see a big smile on her mouth while she laughed, and the glint in her eye really got him in the gut. While she watched him finally look back at her, he took the opportunity to grab the hose further down, and wrap his hand around hers and try to turn it in her hand.

Boo had caught up with the excitement too and was barking and jumping by their feet, occasionally opening his mouth to catch the water in his mouth. Just as Sam overpowered her and turned the hose back at her she was curling her front away from him too, and faced Ruth who watched on, eyebrow arched.

"No! Stop please!" She begged, still laughing, and shrieking a little. She managed to get around him to the tap again and twist it off, and they were still both laughing and panting.

"See, karma." He laughed, using his hand to wipe the water from his face.

She laughed again, unable to pretend she was at all mad for what she had started.

"Whatever. Beats a shower."

Sam raked his eyes over her - dripping from head to toe and breathing heavily, giving him a million dollar smile. He couldn't agree more.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Songs that accompany this chapter are  
\- Hold You In My Arms - Ray LaMontagne  
\- Lovers In a Dangerous Time - Frazey Ford  
\- Carnival Town - Norah Jones

* * *

 

Monday was... the calm after the storm. If you could call emotional unrest calm. Andy couldn't find it in her to leave her room.

It rained. Sam didn't come over. And he didn't call either. Andy hadn't noticed just how much she needed  or wanted him coming over till he didn't.

Sunday had started out so well is the thing, but it ended so badly. For all of them. She wasn't surprised that he stayed away.

_Sam grilled burgers  while Ruth and Andy sat on the porch, drinking wine and talking about the town gossip. Ruth told her stories about the crib ladies' and how they'd gotten themselves in a bit of a bind with the ladies from the rotary club over a rumour that one of the women had been having a torrid love affair with her gardener._

_Sam had done an impression of the infamous subject of the rumour and told them he'd met the guy she was supposedly sleeping with, providing Ruth with ammo to bring back to the cribbage ladies. She went inside to call Patty and Andy stood up to check out the steaks, standing next to Sam._

_"You know, you're really not helping them. They seem to get into enough trouble."_

_"It's harmless McNally, I promise. Besides, it keeps them from talking about me."_

_Andy laughed and took a sip of her wine, eyes still lock on Sam's._

_"You hear all that?"_

_"Ooooh yeah. Cecelia has a dirty mind." He insisted, making Andy laugh again._

_She pushed his shoulder  and he didn't take his eyes off of her till she was just smiling again. Her eyes flitted away after a few moments of silent staring and she slowly made her way inside, looking back at him only once._

_Soon enough they were digging in and still chatting, when the phone rang, causing things to take a turn for the worst._

_Ruth stood, still laughing at the story Sam was telling them about his friend Oliver and the first and last time he went undercover in a sting, and answered the phone with a smile._

_But it dropped after only seconds, and she turned her entire body away from the table, insisting that she'd call back in a hushed, secretive tone. That now wasn't a good time._

_Maybe if Andy didn't have a nagging voice in the back of her head she might've kept quiet, but the phone call made her wonder if she was right._

_"Who was that?" She asked seriously, causing Sam to look at her curiously._

_Ruth sighed and took her seat at the table, leaving her fork where it lay, and placing her hands in front of her._

_"Andy maybe we should-"_

_"Who was it?"_

_Ruth looked at Andy, her darling granddaughter, her ducky, and closed her eyes._

_"Claire."_

_Andy's eyes turned hard and Sam equal parts wanted to leave them to talk alone, but couldn't find it in him to stand. Not with the storm raging behind Andy's eyes, and the hurt she wasn't able to keep off of her face._

_"You still talk to her?" Andy asked, looking as though she felt betrayal in that reality._

_"She calls every few months, Andy, she hasn't been here in years, I promise. After she moved-"_

_"After she left! After she abandoned us!"_

_Ruth sat still letting Andy correct her, waiting for a break to reply._

_"Yes. After she left you, she came here for a couple of weeks while I tried to convince her to go home, back to you. And when she told me she had decided not to, I asked her to leave. Andy-"_

_"And then you cut me out too!"_

On Tuesday afternoon, Andy sighed and pulled the stairs up once she reached the attic, closing herself in. Her room, the attic, it didn't matter, so long as she was isolated. 

It was too chilly out, after a week of sweltering heat, it turned wet quick. Ruth had turned off the heat in the midst of the wave, so this morning they woke to a chill. Andy pulled her cardigan back onto her shoulder, and the sleeves to cover her whole hands and she made her way to the bay window overlooking the front of the property. The empty driveway. But as she stepped in front of it, a breeze came in and she closed the opening right away.

She wished she'd made tea, but that would mean going into the kitchen. There was no way she would risk seeing Ruth.

She sat on the bench for a brief second to just take a breath. Last night was a nightmare after that call. All the things that were said with Sam sitting right there. All the things that were said once he was gone, which were worse.

How she'd reacted, maybe, wasn't quite fair.  But neither was the overwhelming realization that her mother was keeping in touch with her old life. Just not her.

Andy sighed and wiped the tear that had fallen when the thought came flooding back and hit her like a ton of bricks. She'd shed enough tears over her mother these last few years.

She looked around the attic at all the old furniture and boxes that had accumulated over the decades and saw the boxes marked 'Andy' towards the front of them. If Sam was going to be away while the rain stayed, and she needed to stay away from her grandmother, the only pass time she could come up with was sorting through her stuff in the attic.

The old cuckoo clock, forgotten on the floor amongst her grandmothers things, chimed when it struck two o'clock, breaking her out of her reverie.

With heavy lidded eyes that she felt must still be puffy, she went towards them, and pulled up a stool. Settling in for a long afternoon.

_"Andy that wasn't-"_

_"It wasn't what?!"_

_"My choice!" Ruth yelled back this time, pleading with Andy to listen._

_Andy's shoulders sank considerably, and her face softened in surprise before twisting up with confusion._

_"What?"_

_Ruth looked as though she wanted to take it back. Their eyes were locked and to Ruth, Andy looked ten years old again._

_"After your mom, Tommy asked me to stay away for a little while. He didn't want you to be reminded of her when you were with me. I sent you cards, I tried calling, but your dad... He was the one who wasn't ready."_

_Andy stood from her chair on unsteady legs and took a turn away from the table._

_Ruth's eyes then found Sam, who's jaw was clenched and eyes were focused on his plate as he tried to think of a course of action. For every turn the conversation took, Sam wasn't sure how to interject. He thought he may have been forgotten, for how still he was sitting._

_"So that's it? It's his fault you haven't seen or spoken to me in ten years?" Andy asked, no less angry, only now more distinctly betrayed._

_"Ducky-"_

_"Don't! Don't, you're just as bad as her. She left me, and you let her." Andy accused, losing it a little more._

_It was clear she was trying so hard to keep control but was losing hopelessly._

_"Why couldn't you make her stay?" Andy asked, voice cracking as she took steps backward, leaving the room before either Sam or Ruth could stop her._

_Ruth sunk into her seat, burying her face in her hands for a brief moment, before looking to Sam, who finally looked back at her._

_"I think it's time to call it a night." She said sadly._

_Sam reached for her hand and squeezed it gently, offering her a look of sympathy, before standing himself, and walking to the door._

Andy pulled her old Jays jersey from a box and she held it over her heart for a moment, trying to rationalize what her father had done. But she couldn't.

He kept them apart for a decade, because he was worried that she'd feel the loss of her mother all over again. She was only losing another mom. She could've had the shoulder she was missing if he hadn't done that.

But Ruth didn't try hard enough either. Ruth didn't drive down to her, she didn't insist that Tommy let them see each other. She just rolled over. And Andy was the one who paid the price.

She threw the jersey into her 'keep' pile, and broke down the box, leaving it with the others.  She had only a couple left, so she dragged them over to the cushioned seat in the window, and made camp over there. The rain kept up and it was colder there, but the light was better, and it made her feel a little less dreary.

Half way through the box, she heard an engine coming up the driveway and the gravel crunching under tires. She looked down to see a silver truck slowing to a crawl and then stopping.

She felt her heart rate dip and then pick up considerably, and her eyebrows drew together as she wondered why he'd come on a day like today. He couldn't get much done in the rain.

She watched as the windshield wipers stopped when he cut the engine, but he didn't get out right away. It was a minute or two before she saw the door open, and he had  a leather jacket pulled up high enough to protect his head from the water. He disappeared under the porch awning, and she pulled herself away from the window  so she would hear him knock on the door.

She heard the muffled voices two floors below her and feet moving through the house, Sam's heavy boots. Then she heard nothing for a while. She assumed they'd gone somewhere and sat down so Andy went back to looking through her box, pulling out old books that she used to read with Ruth. Her vintage Nancy Drew collection.

She was smiling over one of them, flipping through the worn pages when the hatch to the attic was pulled down and it creaked and groaned. Andy shut the book, and put it back in the box and smoothed her hand over her chest and stomach before realizing she was wrapped up in a warm, bulky cardigan.

She heard whoever was coming start climbing the ladder, and she took a peek out the window to see if she'd missed Sam leaving somehow. But when she looked back to stairs, it was his head she saw approaching.

"Hi."

"Hey." She said, smiling just a bit. "What are you doing up here?"

He crawled onto the floor, then pulled the hatch up behind him before standing, and she watched as he shrugged off his jacket.

"Thought maybe you could use an extra set of hands."

* * *

 

"You were a sports fiend weren't you?"

Andy looked up from her box to see Sam found the one with the photo albums. Her baby albums, their trip albums, her school photos, sports photos...

"Yeah, yeah. Always had scrapes on my knees." She mumbled, pulling out old toys for the donation box.

She kept piling them up, and when she went to reach for the packing tape, she saw that Sam was staring at her.

"What?"

"What's going on with you?"

Andy brushed off the question with a huff and went back to taping the box. "Like you don't know."

Sam pushed the box away and rose up onto his knees, leaning back on his haunches a little, hands resting on his thighs.

"No - I don't mean just yesterday. You've been quiet for a while now. Kind of on edge. That's not you. This past week..."

She shrugged her shoulders in resignation but he kept watching.

"I don't really want to talk about it."

Their eyes met for a brief moment and he saw that Andy looked older than she had Sunday night. She looked so much older, so much more jaded.

"Well we've got to talk about something. You can't keep everything bottled up."

"Your job teach you that?" She asked, implying that he kept plenty of things to himself too.

He tipped his head, acknowledging that truth, but she knew it wouldn't deflect the focus.

"You do what you have to do to keep from losing yourself."

"You think I'm losing myself?"

"I think,  you have something you need to talk about it. Whether it's your mom, or Ruth, or why you came here. I'm here. If you want to." He said, recognizing that it was time to pull back a bit. So leaned forward again, and began pulling more albums out.

She relaxed, and looked him over again. She didn't know what she was looking for - a flaw maybe. Because he came back. He came back and was spending a day with her, for no other reason than to be there with her.

A sigh escaped her, and she pushed the box away and sat herself on the window sill again.

"Is Ruth mad at me?" Andy asked quietly.

Sam sat back again, and then eventually stood and made his way over to where she was sitting. She was hugging one knee to her chest, with the other folded underneath her.  He moved a pile of old clothes that were next to her, and took a seat, back leaned against one of the windows.

"No."

"Disappointed?"

"Nope. No, she's just worried. Says she hasn't seen you in almost two days." He admitted, not down playing anything. "She wondered how you've been eating."

"Very late at night." She laughed, still a little too quietly.

"She really wants to talk this out with you." He said, pulling at the worn bottom of her jeans, trying to animate her more.

"So you're our mediator? She call you here to wear me down?"

"Uh, no. She wasn't expecting me." He said quietly. "I just- Wanted to make sure you were okay."

Andy swallowed, hoping it would help settle the feelings that were evoked when he said it.

"Really?"

"Well, we're _friends_ right?" He asked, smiling widely, hoping she'd do the same.

But she only nodded. And it made him concerned again. She noticed it and she tried a closed mouthed smile quickly, but it left too soon.

"I'm not known for making good choices." She said after a while, her chin resting on her knee.

"What, like, life choices?" Sam asked, confused.

"No, more like choices in company. Who to trust."

Sam's hand that had been toying with the bottom of her jeans slipped a little and grazed the bare skin of her ankle, before falling away completely.

"Andy you can trust me."

"No, I know, I didn't mean you." She laughed, seeing the obvious worry on his face. "I trust you."

He nodded, but was still waiting for her to elaborate.

"I did something really stupid at the end of the semester. Like - insanely idiotic."

"What did you do?"

"I... broke into the school pool, with one of the guys on the swim team."

Sam sputtered a laugh and Andy's eyes flew to his, more than a little angry.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, I'm sorry. It's just, that's not that bad, Andy."

"It is for me, I don't do stuff like that. And we were drunk, so that was a whole other thing. Look, we barely escaped getting kicked out." She said, flustered and a little pissed at him.

Sam nodded his head, considering all the variables.

"So your dad sent you to your grandma?"

"He says he 'doesn't know who I am anymore'. Which is rich coming from him."

Andy toyed with her sleeves again, a nervous habit, knowing that she shared a little too much.

"Yeah, I heard he'd been going through a tough time. I'm sorry."

"I guess he thinks I need a maternal force in my life." Andy offered, trying to get off the topic of Tommy. "He thinks Ruth can 'fix' me."

Sam watched as her face twisted with left over resentment and knew instinctively that there was always more going on in her head then she let on. All these different things coming up to the surface were overwhelming her. The work she wanted to do with him, it was a distraction.

Ruth was right, she did need a confident right now. Something more than Ruth could offer; that would take time. But he could be here, for whatever she needed.

"I'm sure that's not it. I bet it was hard for him, going to Ruth, admitting his mistakes." Sam assured her.

Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, Sam's hand had wrapped around her ankle and was rubbing circles around the bone.

"But then why didn't tell me?" She asked.

Sam let go of her ankle, and instead tugged on her upper arm until she moved, legs dropping from the seat, and her sitting right next to him.

"You'll have to ask him."

She nodded in understanding, and leaned her head against his shoulder, exhausted from the conversation.

"Was this your plan all along? Come up here, make me spill my guts to you?" She joked, looking up to see his face was inches away from hers.

"I'll never tell."

She could smell him where she sat, and his cologne reminded her of the forest, pine-y, fresh. She could see from his small smile that he had four dimples by his mouth, two on each side. His eyelashes were full and thick and framed his big dark eyes perfectly. She wanted to touch his jaw, to feel that smooth line, but she had to stop herself. She couldn't take much more happening that day. She was conflicted enough.

"Thank you, Sam." She whispered, telling herself it was time to pull back.

"Any time, McNally." He said in a gravelly voice.

He didn't move, and she was stuck. She silently begged for him to pull away. She willed him to move first. Just as she was going to try to say something, ask what he was doing, his hand moved to her chin, catching it before she could pull away in surprise.

"Andy..."

And just as his face came closer, and her eyes finally closed, anticipating the inevitable, the cuckoo clock struck four.

* * *

 

It wasn't long after that Sam left, leaving Andy sitting in that nook, still wanting to feel his lips on hers. That was the closest they ever came, and now, now they'd both know that it was something they had to talk about. What would happen tomorrow if he came?

Eventually it grew dark outside, and her stomach rumbled. She could hear that Ruth had made dinner a couple of hours ago, and the smell of garlic overtook the whole house. She even knew that she had long since come upstairs and retreated into her bedroom. Andy knew she was in the clear. But it wasn't that simple.

She opened the hatch, and light from the hallway poured into the attic, hurting her eyes. She squinted as she pushed the ladder down and descended, rubbing them when she finally touched the ground.

Two days she shut herself away. But she couldn't hide for the rest of the summer.

She walked down the hall to Ruth's bedroom, and tapped gently on the door.

"Gran?" She asked, voice unsteady.

It took a few seconds for the response to come, but it did. Equally as tentative, and a little breathy.

"Yes, Andy?"

Andy opened the door to see her grandmother in her big chair in the corner, book in hand, reading glasses on. Ruth put the book down slowly as Andy came further into the room, not slowing down.

"Andy, what is it?"

Andy stopped only when she was standing right in front of Ruth, and looked to her feet.

"I'm sorry."

Ruth stood slowly, pulling her wrap more securely around her as she took a step toward Andy. She placed her hand under her chin, and tipped it up until she was looking at her grandmother.

"No, Ducky. No." Ruth said, seriously, putting a hand on Andy's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Andy shook her head, but before any more words were spoken, Ruth pulled her into her arms, just like she used to when she was a little girl. One hand cradling her head, the other around her shoulders, keeping her close.

* * *

 

They stayed in Ruth's room for a couple of hours, sharing the chair. Ruth let Andy settle into her side and play with her without objection, as she told her about the last few years of her life. About what happened the night she broke into the school.

"Andy, you've never been reckless like that. What happened?" Ruth asked, when Andy had finished explaining.

"What do you mean, I just told you."

All Andy got was a pointed look in return.

"He told me he loved me. And that he wouldn't let anything happen. And I believed him." She admitted, smiling sadly.

Ruth kissed Andy's forehead and stroke her head again, wishing she could've been there for that heartbreaks that came before.

"Well, honey, trial and error. You never know who's going to break your heart before it's too late. I wish I had something better to say... but, that's the truth."

"Yeah, what would you know about heartbreak Gran? You married the perfect guy."

"Oh darling, your grandfather was an excellent man, but he was far from perfect. He was just perfect for me."

"You're so cheesy."

"You eat it up. And I won't pretend I'd never had a date before him, for God's sake I was already a young woman when we'd met, I had a few boyfriends my dear."

Andy snorted a laugh and Ruth pinched her side.

"A real heart breaker, huh Gran?"

"Oh yes, a real femme fatale." She laughed in agreement.

There was a wonderful quiet moment where their laughter died and Andy might have nodded off, but then Ruth spoke again.

"I missed you, Ducky." Ruth whispered, hugging Andy tight.

Andy's hand wrapped around her grandmothers forearm and she kissed her hand that was closest to her.

"I missed you too."

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

The rain kept up, and Sam didn't come by Wednesday. She wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it. An excuse to put off talking about what nearly happened, but, he was avoiding her too then. At the very least, things were better between her and Ruth. They had a big breakfast the next morning; pancakes, fruit, omelettes - it was too much. And neither of them did any kind of work.

Ruth helped her sort out the rest of the donation boxes, and told her stories she'd narrowly forgotten. When it came time to go through the baby clothes Ruth kept snuggling them and sighing about what a sweet baby she'd been. Noisier than her cousin but not in a bad way, just very animated. Andy almost had the courage to ask about Claire, but wasn't ready, in the end. So they had a nice day. An easy day.

When she went into her room for the night she checked her phone to discover that Sam had texted her. But the smile didn't last long.

_Going to Toronto for a couple of days, tie up some loose ends at work. Hope things are good._

She felt her stomach drop a couple of levels and she rolled onto her back, frowning at her ceiling. 'Hope things are good'. There's no question to answer there. There's no semblance of 'hey, so we almost kissed and I'm wondering how you feel about that'. She didn't answer him. He probably didn't expect her to.

"He's got to go over his debrief again." Ruth said when she told Andy Thursday over breakfast. "He'll probably be back for Sunday dinner."

Andy pushed the eggs around her plate and nodded thoughtfully, trying not to give her grandmother any kind of read on her expression. Why would Andy care, it's just a few days. They're just friends. No big deal.

But still her grandmother's eyes lingered.

"The time is right anyway, it's raining. Not much he could do here."

That one gets on Andy's nerves. She shoots Ruth that expresses that she's not impressed with this narrative. She catches Ruth smirk as she turns away.

And that's Thursday. Quiet, wet, a little lonely as Ruth does seclude herself to her desk for a while, leaving Andy on her own. She goes outside for a while - stares at Sam's immaculate bench and sees that everything is safe from the water. She stares at their nearly finished greenhouse and thinks he'll only need a couple more days. The design he picked, it wasn't complicated. She could only hope that Ruth could make up enough jobs that he came by so often. She wasn't really sure now was the time for distance. The distance they had now was driving her insane. She needed to know what might have happened. If he wanted it to. Her thoughts kept leading her there.

She glanced at the tarp covering something underneath the bench and hurried through the rain to see what it was. Paint and primer.

So she spent a couple of hours finishing painting the shutters on the porch. They were covered anyhow.

She thinks of what to say.

_Okay. Everything's good here. Drive safe._

She doesn't hear back.

* * *

 

 

Friday morning was a little different. Ruth woke her up and told her to throw some wool socks and a sweater on and meet her in the gazebo. And she did.

Still in her plaid pyjama pants, she threw on some gum boots and walked across the muddy grass to the gazebo. The rain was falling a little harder today, but Ruth was waiting there with the scrabble board and the tea pot, prepared for the cold.

"Ambivalent." Andy said, laying down her tiles while Ruth watched to see how many points she acquired. "Ha! Double word score."

"You've certainly gotten good at this." Ruth grumbled, tallying the new scores, Andy pushing ahead in the lead.

"I've learned some new words since I was ten."

"Well you're a sophisticated lady now. All that college learnin'." Ruth said, watching Andy chuckle and draw new letters from the bag.

Ruth waited until Andy was done shuffling things around and met her eye to smile, and lay down her next word.

"Secretive." She said poignantly, making sure Andy knew she was being spoken to.

Andy arched her eyebrow, daring her grandmother to say what was on her mind. She looked back down at her own plaque and then to the board a couple of times, before plucking up the tiles she wanted to use.

"Nosey."

"Oh very clever dear." Ruth chuckled, loving how she slowly wound Andy up.

"You started it."

"I'm just playing the game." She feigned, looking at her notepad again, trying not to grin.

After a couple more rounds the game drew to a close, Ruth having won out in the end.

They stayed outside in the gazebo since the tea was still hot and eventually, Ruth couldn't hold her tongue anymore.

"You miss him." She said, without accusation.

"I don't."

"You do. You got used to him being here." She said softly, raising her cup to her mouth, hoping Andy might jump in.

"Maybe." Andy admitted. "A little."

Andy pulled a loose thread in her cable knit sweater and wrapped it around her finger, then snapped it when she knew it couldn't hold.

"You care about him."

Andy didn't say anything this time. She just stared at the broken thread and shook it onto the floor.

"It makes sense. Handsome young man comes around every day. He's nice, and smart, and he's a good listener. No one blames you Ducky. I'd think you were crazy not to. Or gay,"

Andy sputters a laugh at her grandmothers abrupt statement. Ruth laughs with her.

"But?"

"What do you mean?"

"It felt like there was a 'but' coming."

Ruth sighed and looked off into the trees, wondering if she could say it so it made sense to her. Just - don't rush into anything. You have all the time in the world. You're at different places in your lives. None of those seemed like the right thing to tell her, no matter how true.

"No, darling. No but. He is all those things. And you're not so bad yourself. Smart, kind, thoughtful, witty - which you get from me. You're becoming just the young woman I imagined you'd be."

Andy moved from her seat across the board and shared  the bench seat with Ruth, leaning into her side.

"I just want you to be happy, as well. You deserve a life of happiness, Love."

"Thanks Gran."

 

* * *

 

The weekend passes and she found her fingers hovering over the keys of her phone, trying to sort out what to send him. Ask him where he is? How he's doing? Why he's not back yet? If she'll see him Sunday?

She ran over it in her mind again and again, and decided to send nothing. He said he'd be back in a couple of days. It was now day five.

He wasn't there for Sunday dinner, but Ruth doesn't seem surprised. Andy stood in as sous chef and diced vegetables for the salad.  Andy wondered if he's been talking to her. If this is normal for him.

Someone who can spend weeks or even months away from his life in the city, must not get attached.

"Andy?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?" Ruth asked, rubbing her hands with the dish cloth as she finished washing the dishes after their traditional Sunday dinner.

Andy had been looking out the window at the driveway for a few minutes, not noticing that she'd been lost in thought for so long.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She turned around, but stayed where she was, leaning back, arms folded over her chest.

Ruth watched for a minute longer before ridding her hands of the towel and placing her hands on her hips.

"I've been thinking." She announced ,recapturing Andy's attention. "You should call your dad."

Andy shook her head emphatically and raised her hands to her face, hiding for just a moment.

"No. No way. I don't plan on talking to him for quite some time." Andy ground out.

A thick tension began winding its way around the argument Ruth wanted to provide and she was forced to swallow them.  She took Andy's determination with a grain of salt and eased off.

"Alright, okay. It's your decision. But I know he misses you. And I know there's a long conversation that you two have to have."

Ruth kissed her forehead and patted her shoulder. Just as Andy placed her hand over her grandmothers, Ruth moved away, out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving her alone to think about what she'd be going back to when the summer ended.

* * *

 

 

Tuesday morning, the day that marked a week since she last saw him, she decides to go for a long run. Ten kilometres she does, down to the end of Ruth's road and back. There are very few other houses as far out as hers, but when she passed a long driveway every so often she thought about she hadn't spent much time away from the house other than these runs. It had been a long time since she just had a day to herself. Drove around, did some window shopping.

So as she entered the house, she yelled out that she was going out, and Ruth offered the car like Andy knew she would.

She showered away the rain and sweat and changed into clean leggings, a sweater and her puffy black vest. Once she slipped on her rain boots she grabbed the grocery list in progress off of the fridge door and was out of the house seconds later.

The drive into town felt a lot longer without someone next to her, and the radio's crackle was dull company.

But she kept it on while a raging Mumford and Son's banjo finished and decided caffeine was what she needed before her day could start.

She pulled over into a strip mall parking lot, and heaved a sigh when she cut the engine.

The line was long and she could see it backed up to the doors. But she continued on, because now that she'd promised her body the fix, she needed it. She pulled open the doors and was met with overwhelming amount of heat from all the bodies packed into the shop. Andy pushed herself onto her tiptoes to count how many people were in front of her and rocked back with a groan.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and saw no texts or calls, of course, and put it back in.

And then a roar of a laugh came from the pickup counter and most people in the line took a quick glance. Andy took more than a glance.

A balding man stood there laughing with his hand on a friends shoulder. He barely even turned and she knew who that friend was. His hair done like it always is, a deep red shirt under his black jacket... It was Sam.

She looked away and tried to figure out the best course of action. If they both got their drinks now, he'd definitely see her on his way out. And she didn't want him to. She felt a little overwhelmed. It was one thing when he wasn't texting or calling and she could pretend he was really busy, that work was keeping him tied up.

But he was back. She didn't know for how long. And she hated sounding like a fifteen year old girl crying to her friends about how he didn't call when he said he would.

She was just deciding to turn around and get out of there when she made the mistake of glancing at them again, and saw Sam staring right at her.

It was a split second decision, and she turned around and kept on walking till she got to the car. He didn't go after her, so she just sat in the driver's seat for a moment to think. She just needed a moment.

The shrill ring of her cell phone made her jump, and she pulled it out of her pocket without checking the ID.

"Hello?" She said in a shakier voice than she would have liked.

"Hey." Came Sam's rougher voice through the receiver.

She sucked in a breath, cursing herself and taking a look at the shop. She didn't know what to say to him really. Pouting about things didn't seem the smart thing to do. Letting him know she was upset, would be too revealing. What she wanted was for him to come back, come to the house and have something to tell her, one way or the other. But he lied, and now that couldn't happen.

There was a pause of silence and she heard nothing on his end but steady breathing. She reclined her seat, dramatically and closed her eyes.

"You said you were away." She settled on, saying it quietly but passively.

"I was."

She wished he'd elaborate.

"And were you going to tell me you were back?"

"Of course I was, it's - I only got back a couple of days ago." He insisted, taking on a new tone from the casual one he usually embodied.

"Well it kind of feels like you've been avoiding me."

"Avoiding you?!" She heard him laugh.

"Yes!"

"Andy, you're the one who just ran out of a coffee shop. Why would _I_ be avoiding you?"

Andy laughed humourlessly though she knew he didn't really hear.

"Sam... You know why." She said quietly again, dismissing his teases.

There were some things she needed to know before they slipped back into the routine. She just needed to know.

"I'm not. I just needed a little time. Plus, it's been raining." He said slowly, as if she might not have noticed the drops on her windshield.

"At the expense of sounding like a fourteen year old, you could've at least sent me a text."

She wishes he was in the car with her, so she could see him, read him. Maybe figure out if she was making things worse. So be it - she guessed. At least she'd know one way or the other.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just wanted some..."

"Time?"

"Yeah."

"Well here's the thing. Time and space? It doesn't really work for me.  It doesn't involve me _doing_ anything."

She heard him chuckle on the other end.

"You over think things, you know that?"

"Yeah? Pfft. Well, you know, you... under think things."

"Good one." He laughed.

She knew that he was smiling wherever he was calling from.

"Can I come by tomorrow?" He asked, pulling her out of her thoughts of his mouth.

"Even if it's raining?"

"Even if it's raining."

"Sure."

"And McNally?"

"Yep?"

"Check the hood of the car."

With that, the call cut out and Andy was left confused, staring at her phone, and then moving quickly to bring her seat back up.

Sitting on the edge of the hood, was a hot cup of coffee.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam pulled up to the house to see that Andy wasn't waiting outside like usual. There was no cup of coffee, no welcoming smile, and Ruth's car wasn't around either. He panicked for a brief moment that he might have been forgotten and they may have gone somewhere together, but things had only just started to get better between them.

He went over to his workbench and grabbed his notebook from underneath, but his hand connected with nothing. He always left it on the shelf next to his toolbox.

Crouching down, he saw nothing where the box should be, and his notebook lying down flat. He took a look around the bench, and tried to think of where he might have left it, and just as he was going to go into the kitchen to look around, he heard shouting come from Andy's bathroom window, on his side of the house.

He took the stairs two at a time and ripped the door open quickly.

"Andy?" He called, already on his way to her.

"Sam?" She called back, panicked, though her words were muffled.

He came into her bedroom to see her bathroom door wide open and Andy on her back under her sink, being sprayed with a lot of high pressure water, his toolbox sitting next to her. Sam rushed to her, pulling the soaked Andy by the wrists, up from the ground.

"I'm going to go shut off the water valve, stay here, don't touch anything!" He ordered, taking off to the basement stairs.

Andy stood looking at the damage she'd done. Water all over the floor, cabinet soaked, pipe completely busted. The voice in her head had told her not to try to fix it, but Sam hadn't gotten around to fixing her leaky tap. So she did. But then she noticed a drip in the cabinet...

She was just grabbing towels to throw down on the ground when she heard Sam's boots getting closer.

"What the hell McNally!?" He asked loudly, breathing heavily, eyes wide... shirt soaked.

Andy ran a hand through her wet hair, trying to get it all off of her face, and looked again to the damage done.

"I told you I had a leaky tap, and you never fixed it so I did it myself. And then I got carried away, I just wanted it to stop dripping it was driving me crazy!" She shouted back, her own heart beating fast, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

Sam could barely focus on her words as his eyes glanced down, and then all the way back up, taking in her soaked white shirt and flushed cheeks. He couldn’t help but stare at the way her bottom lip was hanging open, the way her chest heaved, those short pyjama shorts that revealed her tanned, long legs.

 

* * *

 

Andy watched closely as he tried to catch his breath; his chest was heaving, almost in sync with hers, and though she was drenched from head to toe in cold water, she felt a sudden stirring of heat build in the pit of her stomach as his eyes left a hot trail over her entire body

And then a heated look crossed Andy's eyes, and that’s when Sam knew that she wanted him too. He watched her blink twice quickly, her tongue wet her lip, and he was across the bathroom to her in two long steps.  Ever since she’d soaked him with the hose, he’s wanted to do this. With two long steps, they were eye to eye, his palm stroking her side and then moving to rest on the small of her back

When his lips came down on hers, she only tensed for a second, and then her arms reached up to curl around his neck, to hold him closer to her.

Andy was shocked that he had actually made the first move. After so many signs, after so many moments where she had wanted him to kiss her, and not doing so, she had kind of given up. She'd been frustrated. And this – his mouth on hers and his hard body pressing into hers - was already more than she had imagined it would be. Two and a half weeks ago in the heat wave, she had imagined having him, being held close, being looked at in the way he is now...

But after last week and the time away, things had gone deeper. She felt, more.

More than friendship, more than great desire. She felt reliance. She felt like her happiness was tied to his presence in her life. She felt... consumed.

With a soft moan, Andy pressed her body tighter into his, forcing his arm around her waist to hold her there. The other moved to her jaw to keep her lips moving with his, his tongue working its way into her mouth. Her wet shirt pressing into his caused a chill to overcome him, but it didn't stop him for a second - if anything, it heightened everything he was already feeling beneath his skin.

When they needed to breathe, he pulled back with a gentle smack, his hands fisted her shirt tightly so no distance could be lost between them. She hardly had time for her eyes to flutter open and take in the dark orbs that his eyes had become before he tugged her back in, hot mouth melding with hers once again.

He tasted like fall. Like a crisp air brushing across her skin, and a hearty feeling all at once. Sam's mouth moving with and coaxing hers was like comfort food - safe and fulfilling and made her feel rooted where she stood. But when his hands filled with different parts of her, she felt as though he was lifting her.

It took her a moment to come back to consciousness to realize that he had, in fact, lifted her. He’d put her back up against the door, and her legs were instinctively wrapping around his hips, wet shorts and all. Their lips only broke for a moment, just long enough for a grin to work its way across her face. 

His hand pet her side as she gripped her arms tighter around his neck so she could be more proactive. She used one arm to hold her in place while the other ran over his chest, up his neck, down his sculpted shoulders. A shiver ran through his shoulders as she heard him groan, pressing himself into her and grinding slowly. They were parts of a puzzle that just fit. There was so much of him that she wanted to know. 

Andy’s senses were nearly overwhelmed. Between the smell of his skin and the warmth of his mouth, the strong grip he had on her thigh… she could feel the tension building as the seconds passed. When his hand moved to cup her  breast just briefly, she moaned and he stilled for a small moment, only to go back and try it again. He palmed her breast, making circles with his thumb over her nipple and she broke her apart with a gasp. Their eyes met before she glanced down at the lack of space between them and smiled, briefly sucking on her swollen bottom lip. All she could taste was pure Sam, and god, she wanted more of that.

"Andy," he said suddenly, separating their mouths. Their pants filled the air between them as they stared. Her eyes slipping closed, Andy pulled him back in and tried to push them from the wall, and into the other room while she kissed him hard. She knew he wanted this; could literally feel how much he wanted her. But, he moved his body with hers and pinned them to the wall, before pulling his mouth away from hers again. "McNally, hey."

His voice wasn't gravelly, it was soft and throaty and slow, much unlike their pace in the past few minutes. Her body was humming with anticipation, heart pounding, chest heaving. Sam held her jaw in his hand, like maybe he was trying to slow things down for a moment. His thumb ran over her lip and in her haze, she kissed it gently, feeling him twitch when she moved to sink her teeth into the meat of it. Andy’s eyebrows jumped when he groaned quietly and dragged down her bottom lip, offering her an open mouthed smile.

"What are we doing?" He asked, panting quietly through his words. Andy watched as five different emotions worked their way across his face, ending in something alike to frustration. “This is uh… What is this?” Before she could open her mouth to answer, his forehead touched down against her shoulder. Slowly, he pressed his lips to her neck, meeting the cool and wet skin and immediately covering it in goose bumps.   
  
Truthfully, Andy didn't know. Well - she knew. It was her grandmother’s house, against the wall in the bathroom and she was soaking wet in more ways than the obvious. She knew what they were heading towards and what she desperately wanted to happen… didn't want to stop for long enough to analyze anything else. The overpowering feeling of wanting him, and them together... she was familiar with that, she didn't want to put off being with him like this anymore.

She curled her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him away for a minute.

There was something on the tip of her tongue, that she really wanted to say, but instead she rolled her hips forward, into him, and watched him close his eyes and clench his jaw.  
  
“I want this,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw. “You do too, don’t you?”  
  
Sam met her gaze and nodded. “I do,” he agreed quietly, but confidently. “Andy... of course I…,” he continued, tipping his hips in a way that made Andy moan. Before he could move to kiss her again, she untangled her legs from him, and his grip was forced to slacken.

Andy stayed close, her palm smoothing down over the damp shirt covering his chest. She heard a quiet hitch in his breath when she trailed just one finger across the front of his jeans before clasping her fingers through his and squeezing.   
  
Wordlessly, still watching him, she began to move around him. The heated look on his face left nothing up in the air. He tugged her close so he could kiss her again, nipping at her bottom lip while his palm wrapped around the back of her neck.

“Sam,” she mumbled against his lips, giving him a small shove. When she started moving again, he let her lead. Wherever she wanted to go he'd follow. “Quit distracting me!” she accused with a small smile, when they’d hardly made it 3 feet. 

Sam laughed, a real, deep laughed that made Andy’s stomach clench with desire as he spun to tug her the last couple of feet towards the bed. 

Not once did her eyes leave Sam's as her fingers moved to the bottom of his shirt, teasing the fabric before slipping her fingers underneath and slowly moving them upwards. Andy wasn't at all unsure in her actions, only in how he might react. Now wasn't the time for turning back.

He watched her with a heated gaze, careful, never able to look away except for when the fabric passed his eyes. The shirt was tossed haphazardly over his shoulder and he didn't care if it landed in the small flood in the bathroom. Sam placed his hands on the backs of her thighs and lifted her briefly, just to make it to her bed, and he laid her down staying between her legs.

Andy curved up into him from below, bobbing her head forward to catch his open mouth. 

"Sam." She gasped breathlessly when she felt his zipper against hers, pressing where she was wet and she moaned again causing Sam's eyebrows to go up a little.

He didn't move back down to kiss her, he just watched her. And she didn't know why, but it was doing something else to her. She felt like her limbs were liquid under his touch, and every graze of his fingertips, every time he pressed his hips down into her core, she felt like she might explode.

Sam brought his weight down on her a fraction more and felt her wet tank top, reminded of another layer that needed to be peeled away.

"Off with this McNally. We gotta warm you up."

Suddenly Sam's weight was off of her, and her eyes fluttered open.  His hands were still on her waist, but were moving her shirt up her torso. Andy was about to move up onto her elbows when she felt Sam's warm lips kiss her stomach, between her bellybutton and the top of her shorts. She gasped again, unprepared for that.  His hands pushed the shirt up as his kisses moved down until eventually it was over her bra, and she took matters into her own hands. Pushing herself up onto one flat palm, she reached down and pulled it up over her head, throwing it down. Then she couldn't wait anymore. She used her free hands to grab Sam's face and pull him to her. He came back up somewhat clumsily and laughed into her kisses -

Until she heard a car approaching up the drive.

* * *

 

Sam had just taken to her neck again when she pulled back from him, but soon she was pushing at his shoulders and whispering his name harshly.

"What? What? I'm doing my best work here McNally."

"No, Ruth's back. Get off."

It didn't take anymore than those words for him to be rolling off of her, and inadvertently onto the floor.

"Shit." He cursed, scrambling to his feet. "What do we do?"

"Uhh." Andy sat up, running to her dresser to grab a new shirt when they heard the engine cut and the door opening and closing. "Get your shirt on, get under the sink."

She watched as he turned away from her and fiddled with the waist band of his pants before going for his soaked shirt that was lying in the puddle. She ran her fingers through her hair furiously while he laid down on his back, their hearts still pounding furiously in their chests.

They listened as Ruth walked across the porch and the screen door squeaked open, and Andy looked around her room, wondering what she could do to look busy. She settled for sitting on the edge of her dishevelled bed, folding the throw blanket.

She cleared her throat while she listened to Sam dig through his toolbox and then clink around down there. It wasn't easy keeping her eyes off of him.

Before Andy had time to spare another thought, Ruth knocked on the open door, poking her head into the bedroom.

"Hi Darling, have you seen Sam?"

Andy did her best to look composed, and could only succeed by not meeting her grandmothers eye.

"Over here." He called, waving but not looking.

"Yeah, there was an incident."

"She tried to fix the pipes herself."

She stiffened at the line, and shot him glare he wouldn't see.

"Yeah well, you can't always wait around for a man. Thought I could do a better job myself."

The double meanings would become too risky so when he didn't have another one for her she was relieved.

When Ruth didn't say anything, Andy glanced at her to see a curious frown  taking over her face.

"Right. Okay, well I'm going to make some tea. Sam, will you be staying a while?" She asked, already walking out.

"Uh, yeah. Yep. Tea sounds great." He said, sitting up to finally give her a smile now that he felt more composed.

"Okay. It'll be ready in a few minutes." She said slowly, closing the door behind her.

Andy let out a breath of relief, falling backward onto the bed and she heard Sam drop the wrench and also take a deep breath.

"That was close." She said, laughing a little, not able to believe that she kept it together. Not when she still felt like she was on fire. "Fuck."

At that Sam stood from his sitting position, making his way over to the edge of the bed. When he saw her he chuckled and offered her his hands so she could pull herself up. He took in her flushed cheeks while she peeked down to see if he'd somehow been able to mask his evidence of their heated moment.

"You look like a tomato." He chuckled, pointing at her face.

Before she could announce her worry, he stopped her with a kiss, smiled and walked backwards out of the room. Leaving her maybe even more confused than she had been when the day began.           

                                                          


	10. Chapter 10

Sam stayed late, as it turned out, to fix the pipe until he could turn the water back on - and it wasn't as easy as he expected it to be.  Andy continued sitting on her bed, watching him, and when he'd pop up for a second to breathe or wipe his forehead, he'd catch her and she'd look away, embarrassed, nervous. He'd sighed and go back while Andy tried to figure out what to say to fill the silence, but never came up with anything.

Ruth came back to tell them the tea was getting cold. They chatted mindlessly with Ruth about the crib group and he was alright with the silences in between. It was how skittish Andy seemed that unnerved him. Eventually, Sam was able to stop thinking about what had transpired but couldn't yet wrap his head around the next step.

He tapped away at the side of his mug, shooting Andy a glance every once in a while, thinking he should have taken her out before now. They both knew what would've happened if Ruth hadn't come back. With a little perspective, it was easy to see how seedy it might come off. Twenty seven year old man sleeping with a college girl he'd never kissed before two hours ago. It bothered him, and he wish it bothered Andy a little more too, she mostly seemed uncertain of _his_ reaction. But it was them  - it wasn't premeditated. It was genuine and real and raw. He knew she knew that.

Ruth poured cup after cup of earl grey, keeping an important conversation between the two of them from happening. It wasn't too long after he spared that thought that she was exclaiming that it was creeping closer to dinner time, and since Sam skipped out on Sunday dinner, he ought to stay tonight.

He laughed  a bit and nodded his head in concession, shooting Andy a look to make sure she seemed alright with it. She offered him a lopsided smile, before hiding it behind her cup.

"I'm going to go ahead and make this one myself, why don't you two go outside. Keep busy till it's ready." Ruth suggested, having gone and put an apron on.

"Sheppard's pie?" Sam asked, having been through this before. Secret recipe and all.

"Quite astute, Love. You two go outside now, shoo. No one in the kitchen till it's in the oven." She insisted, already walking over to the fridge.

Sam stretched to a stand, puffing his chest out to undo the tension in his muscles, then he extended his hands out to Andy, who was watching carefully, and pulled her up out of her seat.

She followed a couple of feet behind him till they were out on the porch. With the fan going in the kitchen, he knew they could have a completely private conversation, but the fact that Ruth was a shout away was enough for him to keep to one side of the porch swing, and let her decide where to sit.

She didn't fall onto its other side, but she wasn't exactly cuddling up to him either.

Once she had her legs folded under her and hugged one knee, she sighed and looked at him with surprisingly soft eyes.

"Tired?" He asked, as her eyes closed for three seconds or so.

"Mmm... only a little."

"We didn't even do any heavy lifting today, McNally."

Before she spoke, he knew her retort, so when it came, he was already scrubbing a hand over his face.

"You did some." She gave him a tired smile, free from any joking, and he found himself, extending one hand to place it on her cheek and stroke one thumb across it.

She stared at it at first, before leaning into it and sighed again.

It had heated up a little in the last day or so, but the evening had really cooled off and with the heat came a little bit of fog, rolling in before their eyes. It was turning into a crisp night so he pulled the blanket from the back of the swing, and wrapped it around their shoulders, with the excess covering their fronts.

"Think she knows?" She finally asked him nervously, obvious worry in the wrinkle her eyebrows became. "About what was happening?"

Sam chuckled, and nodded, meeting her eye easily. She groaned and her head fell back, while he pulled her legs over his lap to help draw her closer. His hand found her knee and his thumb fell into the dip there, rubbing gently while her head found rest against his shoulder.

"That's probably why she sent us out here." He suggested, looking out at the darkening sky. "So we could talk."

"Yeah, I guess we've got to do that."

There was an anxiety in her air now that the topic had arisen, all jokes aside, and Sam wondered if maybe she didn't want to explore what was between them.

He turned his head a little and pressed a small kiss to her forehead anyway, hoping.

"I really like you." He said quietly, noticing that she was fading even more now that she'd warmed up a little. "And I think we should go out, somewhere. Away from here."

She nodded against him, breathing in the fabric softener embedded in his shirt.

"I really like you too."

"Well that's good to hear. You probably shouldn't be inviting every handy man into your bed."

"Onto my bed."

"Yeah, onto." He agreed, smiling.

She coiled her arms around his closest bicep and hugged into him, finding his warmth comforting.

"How do I tell Ruth? I mean, isn't it going to be weird?"

"I think since she already seems to know, it'll be more of a formality." He shrugged.

At that she craned her neck to look up at him, confusion written all over her face.

"Do you think she _really_ knows what happened?"

Sam cleared his throat and looked out at the dark front lawn, while she was still watching his face for a cue.

"She uh, I think she's known that something was going to happen between us before we did. We were talking a couple weeks back, and she said some stuff."

She hummed and turned back to how she was, comfortable against him.

"To you too, huh?" She laughed quietly.

"Yeah, she's about as subtle as a gun, that one."

That was the last thing either of them said for a little while and just sat there, hands intertwined, listening to the crickets and the wind filter through the chimes. The porch light flickered on when the last light from the sun behind the trees faded, and Sam adjusted his arm, pulling it out of her hold and putting it around her shoulders.

It was about a half an hour before Sam opened his eyes to realize that he'd fallen asleep briefly, and heard Andy's soft breaths deep and even beside him.  He leaned his head back a little bit and smiled to himself a little as Andy adjusted herself in his hold. He pushed his feet off of the deck, letting the swing rock them gently back and forth.

It was half an hour after that, that Ruth poked her head out the door to see them curled up together, Andy asleep against his shoulder. She stood in the door and watched as Sam's hand moved up and down in light strokes, knuckles against her bare arm as the blanket slipped off her shoulder.

It wasn't until he moved  to put the blanket back on Andy's shoulder that he noticed the silver haired woman standing in the doorway, watching them fondly.

"It's ready." She said quietly.

He nodded and watched as she left them again before glancing down at Andy.

 

* * *

 

Dinner was quieter but Andy was  refreshed from her nap on the porch and Ruth made polite conversation, and watched the looks they passed back and forth until she couldn't stand the elephant in the room anymore.

"Alright, you two, let's cut the crap."

It surprised Andy a bit, and she looked up at her grandma with wide eyes and her mouth fell open a little. She then turned to Sam who was chuckling, amused by Ruth's sudden shortness.

"Gran, we just-"

"No, Darling, I know. And I know what was going on this afternoon. I assume you can figure out the new ground rules. Right?"

Andy felt her cheeks flush at the admittance of being caught, despite their hustle to hide it, and hid in her hands while Sam cleared his throat and tried to say something when Ruth cut him off.

"Just... not here, not under my roof. Alright?" Ruth asked, definitely seeking confirmation that they understood explicitly.

"Yes Gran." Andy said quickly and with a little too much attitude, just wanting it to be done.

"You got it." Sam muttered, wondering how he could possibly move them on from this topic.

"Good.  Now I'm going upstairs to watch the news and then I'm going to bed. Goodnight, I'll see you both tomorrow. And Sam, drive safe." She said the last part pointedly, staring at Sam till he had to look away.

They waited until she was all the way out of the kitchen before looking at each other again, Andy still pushing her potatoes around her plate.

"Oh my God."

"That was not what I was expecting." Sam admitted, laughing as Andy burst, hiding behind her hands.

"What, you thought she'd just give us a blessing and pretend nothing happened?"

"Not exactly that, but yeah."

Andy kicked her chair back, a little, and grabbed her plate from the table, dropping it into the sink. Turning back she took hurried steps to Sam and grabbed his hand, continuing on her way while he stood and followed, unsure of where they were headed.

She opened the screen door again, but this time it was even colder, and he immediately rubbed his own arms as the cold bit his skin and goose bumps appeared.

She dropped his hand and made her way back over to the swing again sitting back and waiting to be joined.

"What's happening?"

"Come here." She said, patting the spot next to her as he took slow steps toward her. Sam sat down next to her, drumming his fingers against his thighs while she just stared at him, and he blew out a breath, waiting to be told what was going on.

A smile graced her lips while he stared at everything but her. She placed her hand on his chin, guiding him to her as she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.

His hand moved to her neck, keeping Andy close, and then used the other to seat her like they'd been before Ruth called them in for dinner. Sam pulled her legs over his lap so she wouldn't have to lean so far, and placed one arm around her shoulders.

She pulled back, still smiling dopily, and her arms wound around Sam's neck.

"You cold?"

She nodded and he stretched to the side, grabbing the blanket that was hanging off of the swings edge.

"No, let's go sit in the truck." 


	11. Chapter 11

Andy's head slowly rose off of her pillow and she blinked hard a couple of times, raising one hand to block out the sun filtering in through her blinds and directly into her eyes. She felt foggy and groggy, and her mouth tasted tangy. She moved her tongue around her mouth trying to get rid of it, and then moved over a little to get the sun out of her eyes. Then she saw what woke her. Sam was taping against her window and she heard his calls, distorted through the glass, but he was wrapping his knuckles incessantly.

She looked at him with slighted eyes and threw herself back down onto the bed, groaning when he got louder. One arm behind her, she raised it up to him, middle finger high and she heard his laugh.

"C'mon McNally. Work time." He said.

It had been a week since the pipe incident, and the them incident.

So far, so good.

They worked well together still, though there was a bit less productivity. They often found the other watching them and spent time in staring contests, neither willing to break the hold. Sometimes Sam found himself looking at her with the vivid memory of what happened between them, and Andy caught him. She'd been wiping sweat off of her forehead and he was watching her with this intense concentration - a hawk like gaze - calculating, predatory. She had to remind herself why she couldn't be prey. Why they were holding off . They were friends, sure, but they didn't know enough about each other yet. Not that sex constituted a thorough knowledge of your partner first, Andy had had a couple of flings. But... this could mean something. He could be more than another brief relationship along the way.

He stayed for dinner twice more that week, and again, Ruth allowed them a little time on their own on the porch. They'd sit there together, sometimes sitting shoulder to shoulder, and other times Andy would lean back and take the whole thing over, feet resting in his lap where he'd occasionally press into her arches, causing a stirring sigh to leave her. Sam would watch her face when her eyes were closed and her mouth was turned up into a satisfied smile and could study her every curve and hard line that made up her face.

They still ate lunch side by side on the porch, legs swinging beneath them and swapping half their sandwiches. She was better at predicting his moves and was much better about not being under foot. While they worked in the day he played the radio out of his truck and Boo napped in the shade by the house as always. When she took 'Boo breaks' he wasn't quick to get on her about helping him. He watched her huck the ball as far as she could and cheer the dog back to her, always with a smile on his face. Andy had taken to a baseball hat Sam kept on the truck dash but never wore a couple of weeks ago, and now she was growing less shy about claiming a few of the things he had left in there for her own. The night of the incident, they'd been in there, stealing a few more kisses before Ruth would get suspicious and she spotted an old flannel jacket on the back seat, much like the one Ruth had. Andy wondered briefly it was a trade mark St Catharine's residents thing, but she liked it. It was blue and worn and soft, so before she gave him one last kiss goodbye, she put it on, insisting it had grown cold now and the front door was at least 100 metres away. He let her.

He liked her in his clothes. And now, this morning, when she finally let the kitchen screen fall closed with a slam, she had it wrapped around her waist, the hat on over her ironed straight hair and a pair of aviators on her grumpy face.

He didn't approach her, not while she was this tired, and instead waited until she'd downed half the cup of coffee in her clutches.

"It's not even eight yet Sam. What are we doing?" She asked, voice still rough.

"We've got a lot to get done this morning, so we can have the afternoon off."

"I don't want to go anywhere with you. I'm having a nap later." She grumbled, sitting down on the porch steps.

The slam of the door had perked Boo right up, and as she slumped forward, resting her elbows on her knees, Boo was climbing the stairs, turning around and laying next to her, head in her lap.

He looked at her with fake pity and she gave him a bit of a snarl before petting the dogs head and sipping her coffee. Sam walked over to the two of them and squatted down at the bottom of the steps, and plucked off her hat and the sunglasses as she protested with a whine.

"Ruth got into the scotch last night, didn't she?"

Andy nodded slowly, squinting and moving her upper body around in a circle, trying to lean back into the shade of the porch.

Ruth did that some times. Some nights when she was really relaxed and thought she'd gotten a lot done, she'd open up a bottle of her best scotch and have a couple of tumblers. Ruth claimed it kept her in good health. Sam guessed Andy wasn't a big scotch connoisseur.

"Can you tough it out for a few hours?"

She grunted, and he looked her dead in the eye until she softened a little bit.

"Can I go make a grilled cheese sandwich first?" She asked sceptically, leaning forward toward him.

"Yes." He nodded, smiling. "But you like you said it isn't even eight yet-"

"I don't care."

He watched as she scrambled to her feet and walked back into the house and laughed to himself, calling after her to make him one too.

 

* * *

 

After two cups of coffee, a grilled cheese sandwich, and hash browns, Andy was her normal self. She and Sam worked on adding the paneling to the greenhouse. Ruth came out every hour and chatted with them. Almost said she wasn't happy with the sample she'd chosen, but Andy sent her a glare that had her swallowing it down. When Sam told her she was being a distraction, she insisted she was boosting morale and stood there to criticize how he'd let the grass grow a little too long.

Andy was able to shoot her another small look of annoyance but Ruth winked at her in return. Ruth wanted to make sure he had plenty to do to keep him there.

Eventually they called it quits just after one. He tapped her shoulder and nodded toward the house. She smiled and as they walked back side by side, she slipped an arm around his waist, forcing his arm to go up over her shoulders. It felt more chummy than romantic when he patted her arm so she made the immature decision to take the affection out of the equation and pinched him in the side.

"Okay, so what's the deal, why do we need the afternoon off?" She asked as she pushed open the kitchen door.

Andy had expected to see some kind of food on the table, but was disappointed when there was none, and Ruth was nowhere to be seen. When she made a move to open the fridge, Sam stopped her, putting his hand on the door.

"I'm not going to tell you, but I can show you."

"Will there be food?"

"Of course."

She feigned thinking it over, hmm-ing and ha-ing, and eventually Sam grabbed her by the hand and walked her into her room.

"Get changed, and I'll meet you at the truck in five."

He seemed to be quick to get out of her room, but not before checking out the door he had her pressed up against last week. Eyes faltering for only a second she grinned, one eyebrow quirked up in amusement as he awkwardly left her to change.

After very little deliberation on what to wear she slipped off her running shorts and replaced them with denim ones, and peeled out of her white t-shirt and replaced it with a teal racer back tank top. Andy thought about running a brush through her hair but decided against it, throwing it into a ponytail in the end. When she skipped out her room, unable to hide how excited she was for however small of a surprise, and tried to slow her pace before exiting out onto the porch.

Andy saw that he'd changed shirts too, into a fresh black t-shirt, probably just right out in front of the truck and she smiled to herself, wishing she had been out sooner, thinking she could've caught a glimpse.

"Ready?" He called out, tilting his head down so his aviators slid down his nose and he looked at her over the top.

"Yup!"

She jumped down the stairs, grabbing the hat Sam had taken off her head that morning. Fixing it onto her head as she approached, she pulled her ponytail through the back and Sam tapped it's brim when she was an arm's reach away.

"Let's get going."

 

* * *

 

"Mini golf?"

When they pulled into the lot that was halfway between Ruth's house and town, Andy's jaw dropped, very surprised that this was their first date. That this was Sam's idea for their first date. Not that she was expecting anything... but, this didn't seem like him. When she'd gotten into the truck her palms had started to sweat and she found her leg bouncing up and down in anticipation. It was probably a very good thing he was spurring this date on her. The whole time he drove she inspected his face, thinking somehow the right face would give it away.

"Yeah, I thought you liked mini golf." He said, suddenly seeming less sure of himself then he had when he took his keys out of the ignition.

"From that one time I said Ruth used to take me here to play mini golf? You remembered that?"

"Yeah."

Andy laughed and looked back out at the site, noticing they'd updated it since she'd last played there.

"You said there would be food." She said as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened her door, trusting Sam had come through.

"There's a hotdog cart!"

Andy grinned at him as he walked around the hood of the truck to her side and stood right in front of her, wondering if a kiss would be warranted, but something held him back. Sam had never been fond of PDA. His hand grazed hers though, wanting to feel her skin on his, and he felt her finger brush against his palm - unsure of latching on. He eventually took that step and wrapped his large hand around hers and then Andy took a step forward and rocked up onto her toes to kiss him quickly on the lips. Sam seemed surprised, and when she pulled back he was running his tongue over his teeth, trying to keep from smiling back.

"Hot dogs first though, please." Andy mumbled, tugging him toward the gate.

"You read my mind."

They approached the rental booth to get their equipment and the sixteen year old behind the counter only seemed interested in dealing with Andy.

"I'm going to get the food, I'll meet you at the picnic table." He leaned over to whisper in her ear.

As he gently pressed his hand into her lower back before he walked away, and she felt a tingle ran up her spine and bit her lip as he walked away. When she finally turned back, she was left to deal with the leering teen.

When she finally got their stuff without any further hassle she found Sam quickly among the few other bodies at the course, and smiled broadly when she saw her lunch waiting for her.

"Hey. Did you grab the balls?" Sam asked grinning, very assured of the obvious innuendo.

Andy only paused for a brief moment, and was thankful she hadn't been drinking anything at the time.

"How long have you been thinking about that one?"

"Since I sat down."

She smiled at him and shook her head, laughing as she placed her legs over the bench and sat down.

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't touch my putter, buddy."

They ate quietly for a bit, until Sam got a smudged of mustard above his lip and Andy motioned to the spot on her own face while he tried to blindly wipe it away. Every time he missed, she laughed harder and eventually he swiped a little from his hot dog onto one finger and wiped it on the tip of her nose.

"Ready to get your ass kicked?" She asked as she watched him take his very last bite, and reached for a napkin to clean off her nose.

"Oh no, I don't think you understand McNally, I literally helped rebuild this course. There's no way you're going to win." Sam insisted, taking a sip from the soda they were sharing.

"Wait, for real?"

"Yeah. About five years ago, I was on leave after a short stint and I was getting really bored sitting around Sarah's house so she kind of volunteered me."

"She volunteers you for a lot of manual labour huh?" Andy asked, polishing off her hot dog as well.

"No, Ruth was all me. After Sarah introduced us and I found out that she'd been doing a lot of the upkeep herself, I volunteered myself. For once."

"Aww, that's kind of sweet."

Andy propped one elbow up on the table and gave him a sappy kind of look and his face drew down in a fake pout.

"No. It's manly. And honourable."

"Mhm."

"That's enough out of you McNally, let's get golfing."

He stood and grabbed the longer putter off of the table top where she'd left them and grabbed the red ball, and waited for her to do the same before leading them to the first hole. A straight forward sink with no raise.

They both got hole in ones. It remained that way for some time. Each taking a moment to think about the angles before attempting to sink a shot. But then they got to the ninth hole and things got tricky.

"Why does the course seem harder now?"

"Because it is. That was part of the refurbish." He informed her with a smug smile.

Andy groaned and set up her shot, thinking she could maybe do it in two, but not one. This would be tricky.

"Well, you know, maybe you could help me with my form." She said sarcastically as she began to get into her putting stance.

"Yeah? Settle up behind you and show you the moves?"

"Yup. Because isn't that the purpose of a mini golf date?"

Sam watched as she straightened her arms and brought the putter back a bit, testing how much weight she would be giving it, and before she got comfortable with her choice, his chest brushed up against her back and his arms framed hers, taking the weight on himself as she sank into him.

"You're such a cliché McNally." He whispered in her ear.

Sam felt her shiver just a little and felt like she couldn't stay still wrapped in his arms... in a manner of speaking. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, and inadvertently wiggled a little to get set for her shot, and Sam stiffened for a moment behind her. But his fingers re-gripped Andy's hands and she leaned back into him even further, feeling his deep and steady breaths against her back.

And then he sunk the shot.

 

* * *

 

"No you didn't." Andy laughed, hard, as the truck slowly crept to a stop, and Sam turned the engine off, leaving the music on quietly.

They had been out for far longer than Sam had planned. They'd bet that the loser buy the winner ice cream and Andy insisted the best place was in town down by the water. So they went there. She mentioned that she'd eaten nothing but junk all day and they went for a walk on the waterfront trail.

_"We should bring Boo next time."_

There was more tentative hand holding and when they got to a nice bench along the way, he put his arm around the back and Andy sunk into the side - just like when they were on the swing. She told him about her school back home and her friends. She told him about this girl in most of her classes whose mom worked with her dad who she always somehow ended up partnered with. A Peck as it turns out. So he told her about how he'd worked with her brother a couple of times on stings and short ops.

And well, it got Andy thinking.

They stopped on the drive back to Ruth's and got coffee, despite the  growing darker and the moon rising higher, and in an attempt to bring her out of her shell, the way she'd been all afternoon, he told her about his very first sting.

"Yep. I'm not going to lie, I felt very exploited." He chuckled, listening to her snort again.

As her laugh wound down she kept her eye on him, thinking about how easily she was going to fall.

He pushed the console up, hoping she would come over to his side. Instead, she rested her back against the passenger side door to face him, and brought her legs up to the seat, tucking them under her.

"Do you like stings, and stuff?"

He thought about her question, wondering how to explain it to someone who'd never been through it. As he'd had to do before. There was nothing like knowing it firsthand.

"Yeah, I mean, it's kind of a huge adrenaline rush. Never being able to drop the ball, talking your way out of something... when you do it, it's this incredible feeling. It's hard but, it feels good when you get it." He said, only glancing at her a couple of times while he explained.

"You aren't scared?"

As soon as she said it, she saw it hit a nerve, and Sam repositioned himself, sitting a little straighter. Andy held in a breath afraid that she'd crossed a line. She knew he couldn't really talk about it in any kind of detail... but if this was his life, there were things she wanted to know.

"Oh it can definitely be scary." He said, passive, looking out the windshield at Boo sleeping on the porch. "It's not always easy. You don't always get away. But I've got a great team."

She nodded, thinking it was time to move away from the topic but she didn't know what to say. Not for a couple of moments.

Sam sat there stewing as she tried to find a good segway but eventually gave up.

"I had a lot of fun today." Andy said, sort of stating it as a question, hopeful that he'd forget about whatever was on his mind. She pushed her back off of the door, and slid forward on the seat, taking over the middle seat.

He cleared his throat and shook his head a bit before turning back to her, at first just staring until he had to smile at her wide eyed worry.

"Me too." He agreed, his lips turning up a little as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Andy could tell that he hadn't totally shaken what she'd said and in attempt to turn back time, she shot forward, catching his lips in hers.

He was receptive. He opened his mouth and let her explore, and his hand moved to her head and the other to her thigh, somewhat keeping her at bay. She was a little aggressive so Sam used the hand on her cheek to move to her jaw and pull her back just a little. Release the strain on their mouths and make the kiss teasing, promising. He drew back, forcing her to retreat with a quiet moan, before he smiled and kissed her so softly. His lips were still wet from her and with his palm still on her jaw, he slowly, torturously, licked his way into her mouth. Andy was restless, every once in a while biting on his lower lip causing him to laugh a bit. But she slowly ran her hands down his chest, reminding him that this wasn't her first time at the rodeo. No, she knew how to drive him crazy. She just had this need for him at first that couldn't be restrained. And that thought drove him crazy.

"Andy," Sam said, pulling back because if her hands drifted any lower he was going to get himself into a situation. "I think we should say goodnight now."

She pulled back hands moving up to hold his face in her hands and he noticed the lust drunk look in her eyes.  She bit on her lip a little and he shook his head, and placed his hands on her legs, moving her back to the other side of the truck.

"Oh no you don't." He laughed.

She smiled and broke herself out of her own trance, and looked around the cab, before remembering she hadn't brought anything with her.

"You already stole my flannel, so there's nothing left for you to steal."

"Oh ha ha. Very funny."

She opened the door and slid off of her feet, having to hope that her legs would hold up when she hit the ground. She always felt a little syrup-y after  kissing Sam.

The door slammed and Sam started the truck up again not willing to leave until she was safely inside. Then halfway to the porch, she turned around, jogging back. He put the window down, ready to ask her what was wrong.

But when she got right up to his door, she reached in the window and pulled him down to kiss her, one last time.

"Okay, night."


	12. Chapter 12

"It's not that I thought the lyric made sense, I just didn't think to question it. How surprised I was when my dad told me Bob Marley was saying 'we're jammin'' not, 'we're German.'"

Sam was busy laughing at Andy's admission of what was the most embarrassing lyric mishap as she unlocked the front door of the house, dropping her off after dinner out.

Tonight he took her to a small diner in town. Nothing fancy, nothing too serious. He had a strategy, actually. Right now he was still kind of courting her with light, no pressure, low stake dates. Dates where they could have fun, and not stress.

They had burgers tonight, shared a plate of fries and stayed for several cups of decaf coffee afterwards, talking about anything and everything. She wondered if he was a serious kid, he wondered if she ever stopped moving. He teased her about inconsequential things like the way she snorted and she gave him her best impression of him, eyebrows drawn together, lips pursed a bit and a judgemental smirk on her face.

_"I don't look like that."_

_"You do!"_

She asked him about his job again. Which he found odd, but wanted to be open about it as much as possible. If there was a chance he could re-interest her in the field she'd seemed so passionate about when she was younger...  He could reaffirm that the job didn't weigh on everybody in the same capacity, that there was solidarity in the service. But how to do it subtly, he wasn't sure.

_"Do they make you go to therapy when you come home?"_

_"Yeah, you've got to see a shrink to clear you for duty."_

_"A couple of weeks or...?"_

_"Depends on the case, depends how it ends. Sometimes it's one appoint, sometimes they'll have you in for ten before you're clear."_

As he continued mocking her for her lyrical mistake, he shut the door behind him, and then tried to continue into the room before running into Andy's back. It was only then that he noticed she even stopped laughing.

He followed her stare to see Ruth on the sitting room sofa, reading glasses on the edge of her nose, and eyes on Andy, an open book sitting on her lap.

"Hey Gran." Andy said, on the tail end of the laugh she'd been in the middle of when she stopped.

"Hello you two. Good dinner?" She asked, smiling genuinely back at them.

"Yup, yup. You know Earl. Burgers are always good." Sam chimed in, trying not to feel weird.

But they had both assumed she'd be upstairs, so they could share a proper goodnight. As though they hadn't before pulling the rest of the way up the driveway...

"Yes. His culinary skills are very refined. All that grease..." She remarked, passively judging their love for fast food.

She'd always done it. There's nothing like a home cooked meal in Ruth's mind, and they want fast food.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll kick it next week I promise." Sam joked, taking a step backward toward the door, Andy's hand tucked inside of his.

She resisted at first, looking back at him and shaking her head, insisting silently that they were all the way into the house now, they weren't going to hide in the foyer just to share a good bye kiss. But he tugged her a little  harder, partially out of view and Ruth had the cue to take her book back in her hands and keep her eyes glued to it. Andy was a little distressed by the fact that her grandmother was no dummy, and knew what they were doing over there.  She took a step back when he moved toward her, and she was in Ruth's line of sight. But he tried again, and just pecked her on the lips, barely long enough for her to feel it.

"Don't look so freaked out. I'm not going to suck your face off." He laughed, shooting her a wink.

Her shoulders relaxed as she rolled her eyes and smiled, and he dropped a kiss sweetly on her cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow." She said quietly, smoothing her hands over his shoulders.

"Yup. We still on for the fireworks on Saturday?"

"Uh huh. Don't forget to wear red."

"Who could forget?"

"I've got temporary tattoos too. In case you want a flag tramp stamp." She smiled, stepping toward him again, forgetting why she'd been keeping a respectable distance.

They were toe to toe and she was grinning up at him like she did when she was looking for another kiss. He has trouble remembering it's only been seven weeks that he's even known her...

"Yeah, are you gonna have one?"

"Not really my style." She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He took a step back, aware that they had drifted into common space and dropped another kiss on her mouth.

"And it's mine?"

"Well I figured since you're already inked..."

Her finger toyed with his t-shirt sleeve, her thumb sneaking under to smooth over the initials in his arm.

"Oh yeah. Means I'll slap anything on there, huh?"

"That's what I figured."

His arms unwound from around her shoulders and he stood back, trying to get himself out of there before he was looking for ways to evade Ruth and stay a couple hours longer, tucked up in her room, talking. Sitting in their booth tonight, he lost track of everything else. They just talked. It had been a long time since he had a date and said that much, someone was interested enough to let him.

He didn't even realize how much he was sharing until he noticed her resting her chin on her palm and propping herself up on the table between them, smiling.

_"That's as much as you've said to me since I've known you."_

She asked him about what concerts he'd been too, what sports teams he cheered for. And now that she had collected all these factoids, he was finding it hard to stop talking. To her.

"I gotta go." He said, stepping away, and letting his hands fall from her shoulders.

She nodded and watched him open the door, take one last look at her and smile before he was out the door.

From the thin windows that framed the front door, watched as he climbed into his truck and stuck his keys in the ignition, firing it up. When Ruth watched her float back into the living room, she was biting her lip and looking off into space. She put her book down in her lap, wondering if she could get Andy to look at her if she stared long enough, but she wasn't successful.

Ruth smirked and chuckled, unable to hold it back and Andy seemed to snap to.

"What?"

"Nothing Dear. Nothing at all."

 

* * *

 

 The next morning was routine. Andy had time to squeeze in a run when she woke up so she ate an apple got changed, grabbed her iPod and was out the door before she even saw Ruth.

She was coming down the stairs, calling out for Andy as the front door was opening, Sam walking through to figure out where everybody was.

"Is Andy outside?" Ruth asked, just hitting the landing, hand resting on the round end of the railing.

"No, I was coming in to get her." He said tentatively. "Guess she went out, didn't see her runners on the porch."

Ruth thought about it for a minute, then stepped into the kitchen while Sam followed, and found a note on the fridge.

"Went running. Be back by ten thirty." Ruth read aloud.

Sam checked his watch, noting that she would be due back soon and shrugged his shoulders.

"Coffee?" Ruth asked, motioning for him to take a seat at the table.

"Absolutely."

They were quiet for a few moments while she plated some muffins and put the sugar and cream on the table, and Sam watched the older woman carefully.

"It's odd. We've barely seen each other much since you got here." She noted, with her back to him while she placed everything on a tray.

"I know. I know, I'm sorry, but that granddaughter of yours is high maintenance."

Ruth sputtered a laugh, placing the tray on the table in front of him.

"But, in all seriousness, I know. And I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'm just a selfish old woman. Used to having you all to myself. But you seem to make her happy, so I guess I can share." Ruth said softly, looking Sam dead in the eye.

She rested her chin on her palm and watched how he took the compliment in, and shifted his gaze to the floor while he tried to hide the small satisfied smile.  

"Yeah, well, she makes it easy." He said bashfully, trying to seem assured of himself - and failing.

Ruth laughed again and then grabbed a mug of coffee and started pouring the cream in while Sam went for a muffin.

"So Andy said she saw you with a friend. A couple of weeks ago? When she ran into you at the coffee shop."

"Oh, right, yeah, Oliver and his gang are up at their cabin."

"How nice. We should have the girls over for lunch, they can play in the yard." Ruth announced proudly, reaching for a pad of note paper to jot down the idea.

"Not with all these tools lying around."

"Well you two have to be finishing up the green house soon, right?"

Sam sighed and Ruth got the answer she was looking for in the down turn of his eyes and the sight of his jaw clenching just a little, biting something back.

"I have a couple more projects for you now. Maybe there will be tools around a while longer." She said quietly, respecting the fact that he wasn't ready to come around only weekly.

 

* * *

 

When she was walking back up the driveway, she saw Sam's truck and Boo playing with his own tail on the grass.

She pulled out her ear buds and stalked up the porch steps. Bone tired and exhausted from the heat. Not to mention back later than she meant to be.

She pushed open the screen door and walked into the house where all windows and doors were open, just in case the still air caught the wind.

Andy kicked off her sneakers and peeled off her socks every couple of steps, and eventually stumbled into the kitchen to see Ruth and Sam talking over coffee.

She decided that she didn't want to think about the time left and took the last few steps into the kitchen, putting the matter to bed. She could ask him later.

"Hey guys." She said, walking over to Sam's chair and placed her hands on his shoulders.

One of his hands slid up over hers and squeezed it before looking up at her.

"How was your run, Darling?" Ruth asked, watching the two of them grin at each other for a moment.

"Hot. And sweaty, so I'm going to change, and then we get to work. And get sweatier." She said with a disgusted look on her face.

Sam tried, but, he was sure he wasn't convincing anyone. He kinda, sorta, _really_ didn't mind thinking about her sweaty.

"Sounds good." He said, watching her walk into her bedroom, her hips swaying a little wider than usual, to keep from stiffening.

 

* * *

 

Cecelia and Patty arrived just after lunch, giving Ruth a little bit of a distraction, taking their iced tea and crib board to the small table on the porch and caught up on the few days that were between their last encounter.

The wind had only picked up a little since that morning, not quite enough to make the chimes sing. There was little rustling in the full leaves of the trees, and their solace was the shade that was growing over the back lawn.

"She doesn't have him in the will anymore. Not since he married the little tart."

"Well, she warned him after he proposed, it's hardly something to cry about now. Just because she left it all to a shelter. We should all do that. My children are ingrates anyway."

Ruth could hardly focus on the conversation, though fascinating, because Andy was busy laughing at something Sam had said.

Andy's head had flown back, her hand moving across her abdomen and holding on as she doubled over, looking to him as he smiled - proud of the fact that he'd gotten that a big reaction.

She tossed the towel she'd been using to wipe her neck at him, and he moved out of the way. After retrieving it, he whirled it around in a circle, letting it wind up. Andy was backing away in anticipation of what his next move was.

Ruth watched as Sam began walking quickly toward her, and Andy made a break for it, running  alongside of the truck. But Boo was on the other side, barking at all the excitement, forcing her to turn back toward Sam who let the towel snap somewhat gently against her hip.

Andy caught it when he tried a second time, and he tugged it hard, pulling her into him. The towel was tossed to the side once he had one arm around her, and Sam kissed her gently on the mouth, catching her a little by surprise.

"They are sweet." Patty said, breaking through Ruth's bubble.

"That they are. Like two teenagers. Ruth, you'd better hope this match sticks. I don't know how I'll forgive you if it doesn't." Cecelia smiled, letting it drop after seeing a small flash of fear cross Ruth's eyes.

Ruth didn't know if she would either.

"Mhhmm, I expect an invitation to that wedding. All those hints we dropped..."

"Hints? Patty, you were practically proposing a mating ritual." Cecelia laughed, taking a sip of her iced tea.

"You were practically admitting to the poor Dear that you'd like to participate."

Ruth cleared her throat, and went back to examining her hand, willing them silently that all she wanted today, was to actually play crib.

 

* * *

 

Sitting back in the slightly reclined seats of the truck, Andy rested her feet on the dashboard and finally let out a deep breath. Her muscles ached, and even though most parts of her wanted to initiate something while they had a little time before he had to go, she couldn't move.

"Tired?"

"Dead." She groaned, rolling her head away from him and throwing her arm over her eyes.

"Well I hope not. It's almost Canada Day."

"Don't care."

"Yes you do." He chuckled, pulling her hand to uncover her eyes.

She finally lolled her head to the side to look at him, and couldn't help but smile. She let his fingers dance across hers, intertwining and pulling apart over and over again.  Though he didn't try to latch on, hold her hand in his, she felt connected.

"This heat is supposed to keep up for a while."

"I know. I'm not running for the rest of the summer."

"Ah, then this thing might just fizzle out."

"Knew you were only in it for my legs."

"Don't be ridiculous. You've got great lips too."

"Aww." She said, fake as all hell, but sat up and over to kiss him anyway.

"So, anyway, the heat's going to keep up, and I was wondering if you wanted to hit the beach."

Andy pulled the side of her seat, and flew all the way back to a regular sitting position and slid across the bench seat.

"The beach?!"

"Yeah, the beach, what's so weird about that McNally?"

"I can't even imagine you in shorts." Andy admitted, letting her eyes drift down to inspect his torso downward.

"Well you'll see. You in?"

Sam held her hand tightly in his now and lifted his eyebrows, trying to get a gage on what she thought.

"The beach huh?" She asked after thinking it over for a couple of seconds.

"Yep."

"You just want to see me in a bikini." She accused, not quite giving up on making him work for it.

"Maybe."

She stared him down through lowered lashes, inspecting him, hoping to get him to crack.

"Andy-"

"Okay. You're on. Next week, we'll go to the beach. I'll bring the sun block."

"Good."

Sam pulled her by her sweatshirts collar and brought her down to his lips, kissing her a bit harder than necessary. She laughed into it, causing him to smile and her to make contact with his teeth. Between kisses she pulled back for a little air, and saw the porch light going on and off. Meaning Ruth was wondering if she'd be coming back in anytime soon.

"I should go in. We're gonna watch a movie before bed." Andy whispered as Sam nudged her nose gently with his, hoping to get one more kiss.

She conceded and he made it long and slow, his tongue only just slipping into her mouth when she broke away.

"Nope. Nope, I'm leaving."

She pushed open her door and hopped out with another big smile on her mouth, jogged back to the house, yelling 'enough with the lights' as she went.

 


	13. Chapter 13

The thrum and life that radiated from the crowd never failed to amaze Sam. In Toronto the streets absolutely boomed, and while St Catharine's was a less populated area, the families came out in droves and cheered on the street sides, watching the parade go by. Children sat on their  father's shoulders, waving the free paper flags being given out every few yards, and wore their brightest reds and cleanest whites, singing and cheering along - not necessarily for pride of their country - but they were excited. They could hardly handle the day of treats and sweets and all the festivities they had to keep up with. When they were overwhelmed, they whined, and cried into their parent's shoulders, annoyingly reminding them of their limited staying power, and will to nap without the actual want to leave the party behind.

He didn't mind though. His day was going really well. Andy had met him out by the truck that morning, bounding down the stairs and singing a very rough rendition of O' Canada. She wore a red tank top, but had a flag draped over her shoulders as a sort of cape. He'd laughed at her, profusely, and she insisted she wouldn't look out of place. She even gave him two truck ornaments for the day. One window flag accessory for each door and told him it might get him better parking.

He complied and she had been right. She said she'd done a little research the night before.

Sam hadn't had a Canada Day off in a few years now, always detailed to the fireworks downtown - keep the drinking under control and the fights minimal. Even when he wasn't scheduled he swapped with others who'd want to be with their families and loved ones, so today was a special treat. And somehow, she knew it.

So now, as the sound of the bag pipes punctured the air with their wavering pitch, their uniquely strange vibration sparked patriotism within him. As they did when he heard them play on Remembrance Day or at ceremonies or funerals.  Andy wasn't oblivious to the way he straightened up when they passed them by from their spot on the sidewalk as they watched them pass by. Already tucked into his side, she placed one hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder running her hand across his abdomen then up and down his far ribs. When they were walking out of hearing range, and the marching band got closer, he looked down at her, seeing that her flag tattoo was still in perfect condition on her cheek.

She smiled at him tentatively, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. So through completely clear and easy eyes, he smiled at her, with his lips pressed together, as if pulling them apart might cause something to tumble out.

They watched the rest of the parade go by, every now and then he teased Andy, asking if she wanted him to try and carry her on his shoulders. She laughed but refused him, claiming she didn't want to put his back out. He had kissed her quiet, warning her to keep her cheekiness in check or she may have to pay for it. Andy did her best to press down her smile and apologize, but soon after was whispering in his ear, asking him what he planned to do about it. Sam had simply let his jaw drop and then bit the inside of his cheek, telling her she probably didn't want to know.

 

* * *

 

They walked by the food trucks that had gathered around Lakeside Park and got some fish tacos to eat while they walked around looking at the face painting booths and people on the grass having picnics. A few small businesses had tents where they were selling stuff, and giving out samples. Sometimes pamphlets depending on the business. Sam wished he actually knew more about the area than he did, or knew more of the people.

They passed the carousel in the park - line going all the way out of the cover and down the path, nearly interfering with everyone else trying to get around.

"Ruth used to take me here on Sundays." Andy sighed, watching as one girl pulled on her mother's arm incessantly, trying to convey how impatient she was.

Sam nodded and took all of that in. Sunday's used to be a little special for him too.

"I loved going swimming  at the beach and playing in the park and then taking a couple of turns on the carousel. Used to tire me out. She said I used to fall asleep on the car ride home, every time."

She'd been opening up more about the happy memories she had of St. Catharine's, now that she and Ruth were on the mend. But there was still a lot she held close. He didn't really get to complain, since he had only really talked about Sarah when she came up organically - not offering much beyond that.

"It's a great place." He commented, thinking about how those traditions start, about how people have that vision from the moment they decide they want kids. He couldn't fathom having a family. Not now, not even in five years. Maybe he didn't want it...

"Yeah. I keep wishing there was stuff like this in the city. Not like, parks. Of course we have parks, it's just so busy."

"So you don't want to stay in the city after you graduate?" Sam asked, feeling his heart beat a little at the prospective of not being close to her.

"No, I don't know. I mean, it makes you think about how people have families in the city. I mean being a cop, you see a lot of bad stuff right?"

"You see that everywhere, McNally. Not just big cities."

She laughed, shaking her head for sounding so naive.

"I guess it would just nice to be able to pretend you're safe." She said, putting one hand in his.

He wondered if she meant him being safe, or them .

 

* * *

 

They managed to find Ruth late in the afternoon. She'd gone down later in the afternoon with Cecelia and they had volunteered to do face paintings in the park. Ruth was packing up the paints as the crowd was filtering down to the beach to watch the fireworks, and she claimed she was going to head back to the house well before the festivities started.

Andy kissed her on the cheek and told her not to wait up, that they might go for a drink after the fireworks were over, and Ruth had nodded, like she suspected something more may be in the cards for them. It made Andy blush, and Sam confused. Wondering if Ruth really thought that they'd been taking his truck to abandoned lots to get their fill. But he shook it off, reminding himself that it only mattered that the two of them knew the truth. That they weren't diving pants first into things.

And also Ruth shot him a wink that had him relieved seconds later.

Though, he had been wondering how it would happen. With Ruth's place off limits, and him at Sarah's. Neither came across as very romantic.

He was just glad that Ruth was becoming less and less an active voice in their growing relationship. They were able to carry out more conversations without even mentioning Andy's name, and when Andy did come up, Ruth wasn't always being 'the grandmother'. She was able to be mostly unbiased and it truly took him by surprise. Ever since they'd stood in the kitchen and she'd warned him to get to really know Andy before jumping in, he expected to be watched like a hawk. But Ruth trusted them well enough.

"I'll see you in the morning then, Love. Have a good time."

Ruth hugged her granddaughter, and Sam reached for the case of paints, insisting he help lug it to where ever they were parked, figuring that in this chaos it couldn't be close. It earned him a respect filled smile from Ruth and Cecelia grabbed him by the arm, since he'd be 'escorting them out'.

Andy and Ruth stayed a little further back, and Andy pointed to the carousel as they passed it. Sam looked over his shoulder in time to see a nostalgic smile take over Ruth's mouth as she leaned into her granddaughter, patting her arm affectionately.

"I've got a couple of bucks in my change purse if you really want a turn, Ducky."

"I think I'll manage Gran." She laughed.

 

* * *

 

Once they were squared away, and Ruth was headed off for home, they realized they only had a couple of hours to get food and a place to set up camp, but Sam seemed to have other ideas.

"Where are we going? There's very little sand left down there, we'll be stuck on a tree root or something." Andy said as he led them out of the park and a few blocks up from the water to where the truck was parked.

"We're not watching from down there."

"Oh?"

"I know a place." He said vaguely, pulling her up the street behind him.

When he drove them into a wooded neighbourhood slightly above the town, she was a little sceptical. If she were going to try to come up with a description of it, she'd say it was like a lookout point that her high school boyfriend used to drive her too to make out. Where they could see Toronto lit up, a place that 'set the mood'.  Andy told him as much and had laughed and as he took a turn before the spots furthest point, so he could back up the tailgate to the view.

"I promise you, my intentions are honourable." He said while she studied him.

And then she pouted and he chuckled again.

"Okay, a little less than honourable." He reiterated, leaning over, looking for a kiss which she quickly supplied.

"Good." She said quietly, between pecks. "We've got quite a bit of time to kill."

And kill time they did.

They had a bit of a heated make out session; Andy had only slipped him a bit of tongue and suddenly, he was tugging her into his lap so she could rest against his hard thighs. She was her doing her best to keep from grinding on him, since she knew it couldn't get too out of hand, and him, trying to refrain from pressing into her, seeking the friction he craved. And even more importantly, both of them were failing miserably.

It had not been the plan. In all honesty they’d been pretty good at minimizing the ‘almosts’ because well, they didn’t often get the time or space to be alone. But when Sam’s palms cupped her ass, Andy’s mind drifted back to that  _thing_ they’d had in the bathroom and she slid her hips in close, meeting his in the middle. She would’ve not minded continuing where they’d left off two and a half weeks ago, and she was pretty sure he was feeling the same way.

They tried to keep the pace varied, slowing it down when it became too tempting, only to bring them right back to the precipice over and over again. At one point, Andy managed to get Sam's jeans unbuttoned and unzipped and it barely registered, until he felt her hand trying to move the elastic of his boxers.

"Andy."

"Yeah?" She panted, trying to get in further as he held her wrist still.

"Not tonight, not here."

Her wrist went limp, giving into his resistance and she pulled all the way back from him, crotch still on his, but her back resting against the steering wheel. Her thoughts went to the ‘where’, trying to come up with suggestions before the moment passed.

"What? Why not?"

"I just - This isn't how I want this to go down." He said, trying to make sure she understood that he really wanted to.

"Sam, c'mon, I'm not some virgin who needs to be romanced." She huffed, frustrated. Most of the time she wasn’t. She’d accepted that they were taking this at a different pace than most of her past relationships. But right here, right now, she really did not want to just stop. "Besides, we don't have to go that far, just  _something_."

"I know, Andy, I know." He said, smiling like a wolf. Their chests were still heaving, desire filling the space around them. "I just think we can do better than the truck."

After a moment to consider, she smiled too, glad that he didn't have some wrong idea of who she was or what she expected.

She leaned back into him, back arching and her breasts pressing against his chest, pelvis shifting position ever so slightly, causing a magnificent groan to come out of his mouth. It was a sound she almost recognized, a huskier version of when he lifts heavy scraps of wood.

"I don't know. I've thought about us, in here. Like this," she admitted, thinking back to those times she thought it would be so easy to just pull over and…

"Oh really?"

He let her tell him all about it as he licked and kissed her neck - regretting his decision to not let her help him out.

And then while they were curled together more innocently, later on, merely holding each other and stealing kisses when he nudged her nose with his, the alarm went on his phone telling them the fireworks were scheduled to start soon. He was leaning against his door, with her tucked between him and the seat, along his side, and she was comfortable like that. The truck was still warm from sitting in the heat all day, and though it was dark, she found it peaceful. She was reluctant to move even when the alarm went.

"Come on. I've got some blankets and cushions in the backseat, we'll make it cozy."

True to his word, they threw everything into the bed of truck, and climbed in, making themselves a comfy spot to lean back and watch the lights brighten the sky from. The perfect ending to a perfect day.

"Tell me you play the guitar and you'll be just like a character in a Nicholas Sparks book." She whispered half way through the show.

He raised his chin from its perch on her shoulder, she was sitting between his legs, leaning her back against his chest, and looked around wondering why she might be whispering. They weren't at the movies. But then again, she sounded a little tired. It had been a long day, and she'd had way too much cotton candy.

"Well, prepare to hate me." He whispered in return, causing her to groan.

"Oh no. Now I really want to tear your clothes off." She laughed, whining a bit.

He bit her shoulder and then kissed the same spot and smiled against her skin. "I'm actually pretty good at it."

"I bet you are."

"Not what I meant, McNally."

"Suuuure."

He laughed into her hair as a firework erupted, showering the sky in what seemed like gold stars.

"Well, the skill translates. I'm great with my hands."

"Magical fingers." She snorted, trying not to actually think about the words coming out of his mouth, or hers. She was just tired enough not to be able to process them as a reality. This was just banter.

"You're really trying to wind me up aren't you?"

"No, that was earlier remember?"

"I'm never letting you have that much sugar again, you're too quippy for your own good." Sam admitted, wrapping his arms over her stomach when he noticed her shiver a tiny bit. The air was still warm, but with a breeze coming in, it was hard to keep a comfortable temperature.

"Today has been amazing." She sighed, finally settling down from a fit of laughter. The kind that takes over when you're craving sleep but too amused to give in.

"Yeah."

"It's because of you. All of it. The last couple of weeks, they've been great. You're great." She said sincerely, stretching her neck up, missing a burst of blue and purple fireworks.

"Andy-"

"I mean it. Planning all this stuff, being so considerate. No one's ever really... You're one of a kind Sam Swarek."

He wasn't prepared for the feelings that hit when it came out of her mouth. He was surprised how his chest tightened and his heart felt like it was swelling. Something in the pit of stomach unfurled and warmed and he wanted to just... He didn't know. He just wanted to be able to carry that feeling with him always. Maybe he could do anything if he did.

"Andy, I'm not... I don't do this kind of stuff, normally." He said.

He wanted her to understand that he wasn't the kind of guy to take this much planning into account. She was just different.

"I mean, I don't know. You're different. This whole thing we're doing... it's different."

When she smiled her big wide smile, he knew she understood what he was trying to say without so many words. He didn't know how to say it.

She was different and it scared him less and less by the day. She was different, significant. She was... as hoky as it sounded, one of a kind. He'd never felt like someone was this important, after knowing them for only a short period of time.

"My buddy has a cottage. A little closer to Niagara and I don't think he'll be up there till August. I was wondering if maybe you might want to get away for a weekend, soon." He said, finally feeling pretty solid on where she was, on them, physically.

Although, it was never her idea to wait, really.

She grinned again, stretching her mouth wider than he thought it could go and nodded, leaning up for a kiss, and he granted her one.

That feeling in his stomach was still growing and spreading, and lighting him from the inside out. She was different and he didn't want to lose her.


	14. Chapter 14

"There's sand in my sandwich." Sam complained when Andy finally emptied the contents of the tote bag that she'd brought everything in.

She was laying on her back, propped up on her elbows, munching on carrots, occasionally dipping them in hummus, while Sam took a bite into his turkey club and dug to the bottom of the yellow and blue bag, hoping to find some chips.

When he'd showed up at her house that morning, she was still genuinely surprised to see him in navy swim trunks. Obviously he'd have to be wearing them, but they'd worked in thirty degree weather before and he still insisted on jeans. He wore a plain white tee on top, and his aviators - opting out of the safety goggles that she was used to. There were even Nike thongs on his feet, presenting a new level of relaxed Sam.

Andy came out of the house wearing a big, thin white shirt, and from a few feet away, he noticed the white bikini top was visible from underneath. She wore her signature denim shorts, but these ones came off a little more Daisy Duke than he was used to, and he took his time appreciating them. And to top it off, she was still wearing his hat, backwards.

The whole drive to the beach they had both windows down and a burned CD of her own playing, and he was un-offended by every song that came on. He didn't recognize them all, but he could tell there were some tracks on there for his benefit alone.

She found them a nice spot on the sand, a little further out from where the families hunkered down and quite a ways back from the lake so they wouldn't have to deal with sand being kicked in their faces as people made mad dashes to the water. He had thrown everything down and started to lie out their towels as she peeled her shirt off, and he froze.

Her skin all over was olive-y and already tanned from working in the sun most days. There were a couple of hard lines where she'd been burned and the tan hadn't evened, and when she asked him help out with her sunscreen, he paid special attention to those spots. Her stomach muscles were as taut as he remembered and the curves and slopes of her breasts were as inviting as ever. She shed her shorts not long after and he realized this was as much of her lower body as he'd ever seen.  Seeing her legs all the way to their tops and not having to work too hard to imagine the rest, he'd let out a low whistle, and she'd turned and hucked her balled up clothing at him, before dropping down onto her towel.

"No there isn't. They were in a sealed container."                                                        

He startled, and picked up his jaw, continuing to chew on his perfectly good sandwich.

"Well there's sand everywhere else." He grumbled, brushing a collection of tiny rocks off of his shin to prove his point.

Andy couldn't help but laugh and bite into another baby carrot. He swung his head around to look at her, as she tipped her head back to let the breeze that was picking up cool her neck where her hair had been sitting. Chin pointing to the sky she sighed and smiled unconsciously, looking ten times more relaxed. A feat he didn't think possible. As soon as they put their towels down she was digging her toes into the sand and laying her head on her folded hands.

He studied her carefully and then took another bite and groaned again, and this time, Andy rolled her head to the side, and brought her sunglasses down her nose so she could squint at him.

"Sam?"

"Yup?"

"If you hate sand soooo much, why did you ask me to come to the beach with you?" Andy asked, rolling all the way onto her side now, plenty amused.

He put his sandwich back its Tupperware container and leaned himself back down to one elbow, while the rest of him was facing her. When he got himself situated just right, his face was nice and close to hers, their knees touching and he rested his free hand on her smooth and tanned hip, just under where her white bikini bottoms ended.

He brought his face as close to hers as his neck would allow and then brushed his nose against hers.

"Well, I do like swimming. Don't do much of it at home."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

"So, you don't want to be lounging on the beach with me? You'd rather take a cold dip?"

He laughed at her then, breaking the banter, and moved his hand from her hip to trace her jaw from below her ear to her chin.

"Only if you join me."

"But I'm all toasty and warm." Andy said, stretching her free arm past her head and extending her toes too.

"Maybe in a little while then, huh?"

"Yup. Ten minutes."

He let hand come up and move his from her face and tangle their fingers together before dropping them in the sand between the towels. She was distractedly placing handfuls of sand on top of fingers, slowly burying his hand when he spoke again.

"There is one other thing I like about coming to the beach."

"What's that?"

"Really like seeing you in a bikini, McNally."

Half of her was so tempted to give his shoulder a small shove so he fell back onto his back. But with him so close, and the heat still rolling off of him, even with this wind... she wanted to feel his skin on her skin.

So she smiled, tilted her head and leaned forward to meet him, taking his lips in hers.

 

* * *

 

True to her word, ten minutes later, she lifted her head off of his chest and sat up and started pulling at his arms, trying to get him to stand with her. He'd decided after the exchange of chaste kisses and she laid right along side of him that maybe resting in the sand wouldn't be so bad. She'd been resting their so still and quiet he thought she may have fallen asleep. Then she lightly dragged her finger nails over his chest and through the smatter of hair there, blowing at it every once in a while. But now she was squatted down next to him, putting the food back in the bag and straightening her towel for when she came back, cold and in need of drying off.

"Come on, ten minutes are up. Swim time." Andy said, tapping his thigh and stretching to her full height before he could pull her back down.

"Do I have to?"

"You said yourself, you came for the swimming, so, up up." She said again, hands on her hips this time.

He sat up a bit and looked around at the beach and the busy water. He saw kids running in and splashing each other, and a few girls hand in hand, jumping over the small wave breaks that the wind caused. Then he turned his head to look further down the beach where most of the teenagers had accumulated and were blasting music from their battery powered boom boxes - or whatever they were called these days.

"Plus, you know, this bikinis new. So, I'm not completely sure that it isn't see-through."

She had said it so casually that he was thankful he hadn't been drinking something, cause it would've been a spit take type deal.

He was on his feet in seconds, and gave her a 'I have an idea you're not going to like' look, and started moving toward her. She had the good sense to start backing away, but then he lunged and she shot away, running to the water.

In a well timed race, he was only seconds behind her, nipping at her heels and drove her straight into the lake.

She submerged herself until she was knee deep and then realized she had nowhere else to go and would much rather ease in, so as Sam came forward, she held her hands out and bent her body over a little in a defensive position.

"No, no, no. Sam, don't!" She pleaded, eyes wide, trying to look serious while she silently accepted her fate.

He had stopped when she slowed down just in case she changed her course and tried to get back around him, but now that she had just given up, Sam smiled, and walked slowly toward her.

Andy took one more step backward before Sam was running at her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he hoisted her up into the air. She screamed and kicked her legs while her center of gravity shifted and she was up over his shoulders, and then he threw in the air a little, and his arms were supporting her back and under her knees. She was prepared to wrap her arms around his neck so he wouldn't be able to shake her, when he tossed her and then she hit the water with a smack.

After the initial shock and cold that caused a shiver to crawl down her spine and goose bumps to grow on her skin, she became accustomed before her head broke the surface to take a breath.

The water was only just waist deep, Sam's waist, higher than hers, and when she stood to her full height she watched his face drop with mock disappointment.

"Not see-through. Good to know."

 

* * *

 

Feet up on the dashboard as usual, Andy relaxed in the middle seat of the truck as Sam drove them out of town.  After the first couple of rides in his truck, with her hand trying to rest on his leg over the console, he started leaving the middle seat up. It left Boo out of things when he was with them, but it was easier for them to just touch the other. Right now she was sitting close, but not shoulder to shoulder, her arm over the seat back and her hand scratching at the back of his neck absentmindedly. He had his right hand on her knee, taking it away every once in awhile to turn, but always bringing it back.

"You shouldn't sit like that." Sam said, trying to keep her from dozing while he drove.

"Huh?"

"With your feet on the dash. It's a bad idea."

"Pffft. It's fine."

"Andy, I've been to too many accidents where a passengers legs were up on the dash before a head on collision and-"

"What happened to 'I'm an excellent driver' huh?"

"I am. But I can't help what idiots do."

"Fair enough." Andy conceded, remembering her dad telling her that when she was growing up.

"Seriously, they use the jaws of life, and the firemen have to..."

Sam trailed off when he saw her head relax against the flat of the seat back and pretend to snore, trying to keep from smiling. He laughed and gave her a light slap to the knee and she giggled too, placing her hand over his and squeezing just lightly.

"You know, Sarah's place is closer. You could stay tonight." He said when he noticed her fading.

Andy was completely drained from the sun. And without Ruth always bringing them a pitcher of ice water, she was forgetting to hydrate often enough. Once she got the spins, he decided they needed shade for a while.

Sam had rubbed her back while she sat on a bench with her head between her knees, doing her best to get her equilibrium in order again.

Andy wrung her still wet hair out onto the towel that was still wrapped around her as they rolled on down the road, Sam's statement still on her mind, and thought about how right he had been. The water was so nice, and she didn't swim in the lake much in Toronto either. It was weird, but no one really did. But here, it was so refreshing and she wished she did do it more...

She'd been hoping to get him back in the water, maybe get even for being dumped in. After that little fiasco, she jumped onto his back, pushing him further into the lake and then used all her strength to drag him down with her.

After a bit of water treading and splashing, Sam just stood with his feet sinking in the sand underneath them. With Andy's legs wrapped around his hips, the water supporting her, and they shared one of their best kisses to date.

Her arms were wrapped tight around his neck, each hand holding the opposite elbow, and used her advantage of being a little higher on his body than usual to lick her way inside of his mouth, and stroke his tongue with hers. Her lips were chilly, and tasted like the lake, but he didn't care.

With her front pressed against his, they managed to keep fairly warm for awhile, until the wind picked up again and she shook in his arms. Just how chilly she'd become was very apparent as he felt her nipples harden against his pecs, and he'd pulled away to look between them. One of his hands, that had been holding the other just underneath her ass, came up and he experimentally ran his thumb over the little nub that strained against the simple string bikini top, and he watched as she opened her mouth to let a rush of air into her lungs.

Her eyes went wide for a second, but when they went back to their regular shape, her pupils dilated and he did it again, listening as she made a small whine.

There was something about this girl - wet and in white was how he was beginning to like her best. Ever since he sprayed her with the hose it became a fantasy. Then it became a reality. Her cool skin under him, heating with every kiss and press and stroke...

And then like that, the way she huddled into him to share in his warmth while wrapped around him in the lake, he had her right where he wanted her. Needed her.

Unfortunately as her mouth closed, her back teeth chattered and he noticed the goose bumps forming on the valley between her breasts as his eyes followed yet another drop of water that fell from her soaked hair.

So he took her back to the beach. They laid down on their towels and let the sun reheat them until a bead of sweat replaced that trickle of water and he wanted to lick a path up her breast bone. But the that was when the dizzy-ness cut in, and he was distracted yet again.

They'd been so distracted by the time they were leaving that she couldn't believe that relaxing sun bathing had been only that morning. But then again, she could still feel the sand between her toes.

"And _Sarah_ only lives five minutes from Ruth." Andy laughed, tiredly, running her nails lightly over his collar bone.

"Eh, I tried." Sam grinned, giving him all his teeth and deep dimples.

"Sam." She said, waiting for him to look at her as they approached a stop light. "Next weekend, we'll have a cabin all to ourselves. We won't have to think about Ruth, or Sarah... "

That reminder was what brought him back every time he thought he couldn't handle the wait any longer.

She slid down the seat and turned toward him, until her chest was against his arm and she was pressing a kiss to that smooth spot of skin under his ear.

"And we'll be miles from anyone." Andy whispered conspiratorially before pulling back. "Doesn't that sound so much better?"

"Actually the back seat sounds just as good to me right now." He insisted, shoulder checking, unable to look at her right now, fearful that he may just lose it.

"I promise you, you'll be happy you held off."

They shared a laugh for a minute, but in the silence he grew a little bit fearful that she might walk away from this conversation with the wrong idea.

"I know. Andy, I _do_ know that. You just..." He trailed off, failing to find the words to let her know that she was just unbelievably irresistible. In this way that made it seemed like her appeal was crafted specifically with him in mind.

"Yeah, I get it. You just... too."

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

 

* * *

 

"So, Gran, Sam and I made plans for next weekend that I have to run by you." Andy started nervously as she staked their plates after dinner.

Ruth knew that by the tone of her voice they'd be moving into new territory in their living situation, what with the law she laid down back when they 'told' her about them.

"Alright." Ruth said, leaning back in her chair. "Run away."

"Okay, so, Sam has this friend - he said you know him - Oliver? And Oliver's got this family cabin not too far away, and they only use it a couple of weekends in the summer, and that he might be able to-"

"Andy, please, the point of this rambling?"

"Sam and I are going away for a weekend." She said finally, deciding it best not to ask.

Andy didn't need approval, a young woman of twenty one, she was free to make her own choices. But this way Ruth had about her, made her feel like a child again, like her opinions mattered because Ruth had such a good moral compass... This would be a grey area though. Ruth probably couldn't have too much of an opinion that she'd be able to share in the parameters of normal social acceptability anyway.

"You are? At a cabin. Of a friend of Sam's?"

"Yup. Those are the deets. So we're leaving Friday afternoon and I'll be home on Sunday night, and Sam and I will be finishing up the greenhouse on Monday, so it all works out-"

"Andy?"

"Yes?" Andy asked, falling into the seat next Ruth, bracing herself for something coming.

"Darling relax. I understand. You want some time away with your boyfriend, or... man friend. And it's fine." Ruth insisted, laughing at her granddaughters uncomfortable expression when she used the 'b' word.

Andy let out a deep breath and then laughed at herself, apologetic about how wound up she was. They only just got each other back, the last thing she'd wanted to seem was ungrateful for everything Ruth had done this summer up until this point. She needed to know that this wouldn't be a problem.

"Sweetie, you're an adult. I know you're used to your dad being in charge and his rules, and just because I don't want any... _sin_ , happening under my roof doesn't mean you aren't free to do as you please. Just within reason. And I don't want to know about it." Ruth finished, placing a hand over Andy's.

Andy nodded and sunk back a bit, fully relaxed, and finally able to look forward to their upcoming getaway with unparalleled excitement.

"Although..." Ruth said, interrupting Andy's planning.

The look on Ruth's face had Andy groaning when she realized some kind of deal was about to be laid out for her. Though her grandmother and father had no relation, they were similar in too many ways.

"What?"

"Alright, hear me out. I think your getaway is perfectly reasonable. I'm being a very cool grandma, very understanding. And since I'm being level headed, I think you should do something reasonable as well." Ruth stated.

The slower she spoke, the more anxious Andy got, anticipating whatever task was coming.

"What is it Gran, please, you're killing me."

"Call your father."

"Gran-"

"Andy. Hear me out. You've been away two months now, and you refuse to talk about him, and what happened. But I think you should talk to him. You have to go home eventually, a couple of phone calls might help smooth the transition. That seems reasonable, right?" Ruth asked, knowing she was appealing to Andy's rationality, which she'd always had trouble ignoring.

"Two minutes."

"Five minutes. A five minute conversation, and you will have nothing weighing on your shoulders for your lovely weekend away."

Andy sighed and her face was burdened, a little sad and turned down, but she nodded in the end.

Ruth kissed her forehead and left the room, allowing her to begin dreading that call to get to her dream weekend.


	15. Chapter 15

"You know, mothers look forward their whole lives to having their family around them in their old age." Ruth said as she separated Andy's hair into three separate strands. "And here I am, big empty house, with one granddaughter."

"Gran, what about Lucy?"

"Well, yes, I have Lucy. Who I speak to on Thanksgiving, at Christmas and Easter, and again on my birthday and hers. That's... not what we imagine." Ruth sighed, weaving the strands between her fingers and pulling a little to be sure the braids wouldn't be loose. "We imagine you coming up every other weekend, and bringing friends sometimes. And I imagined more grandchildren, to be quite honest."

Andy was sitting on the carpet in Ruth's room, in front of her large reading chair, knees folded as she flipped through a magazine. She stopped skimming over the words of the old Cosmo she'd shoved into the bottom of her suitcase and stayed stock still for a moment.

_"What are you reading that trash for?" Ruth had said when she found it. "That is patriarchal garbage. I can't believe you brought that into my house."_

_"I know, but, still. Helpful, sometimes."_

_"That is heteronormative, cis-gendered, sexist bullshit." Ruth had drawled like those words were nothing._

_"Geez, Gran, I just wanted to-" Not long after starting that sentence she realized she couldn't explicitly tell her she wanted to look into the 'ten tips for your tongue' article._

_"Oh, I realize what you wanted to, but sweetheart that is not the way."_

She let Ruth tug at her hair a little longer before asking the question burning a hole in her mind.

"You haven't met Claire's- You don't know her kids?" Andy said it so quietly, she thought it had gone unnoticed.

Ruth simply let go of the hair she had collected and shook it out with her fingers, undoing the braids she'd nearly finished, thinking it was too distracting.

"It helped that that choice didn't rest solely on my shoulders. They don't exactly live nearby."

"So she's not even in the province?" Andy asked tentatively.

Ruth shook her head when Andy craned her head around to look at her, indicating that Ruth wasn't going to divulge that information. Not because Andy couldn't know, but it wouldn't do her any good.

"It was helpful that Claire knew how upset I was about  her leaving." Ruth admitted.

Andy's eyes turned sad at that. As easy as it would be to resent the kids, or her grandmother for having relationships with them, Claire was always the root of it. Her choices that screwed them all over.

"I just wish I had a full house again sometimes."

Ruth signalled her to turn back around, and Andy did, placing her magazine onto the floor and leaning back against the chair. The teeth of a comb ran through her hair and Andy sighed, remembering the time Ruth had to comb gum out of her hair with olive oil when she was six. Ruth had this way of turning back time, of welcoming all the fond memories without evoking the pain, the way they both wanted it.

"How come you never remarried, after grandpa." Andy asked, staring at the picture of the two of them on the dresser. "You could've had someone with you here all the time."

Ruth laughed and looked at Andy's discarded magazine, rolling her eyes again and then thought about the question she'd heard so many times. Wondered how to make a twenty one year old understand.

"I suppose there was no one else I wanted to commit my life to." She started. "I've not been lonely, my dear, don't worry yourself. I've spent time with people and had relationships and companionship. But I don't see myself living out the rest of my days with another man, the way I was meant to with Joseph."

Andy stared at her Gran, wondering what it might feel like, to have something meant to last forever and lose it well before it's time. To be left with nearly grown children who would soon leave the coop.

"There's no one else who will ever have me or know me like he did. I made vows to him. And for me, I felt they might be cheapened if I could say them to another. It may seem close minded but... He was my world, my story."

Andy felt her heart crack a little, trying to imagine a world where she knew her grandfather that she had idolized so much. She wished she could have witnessed a love like everyone said they had. Her parents didn't have it. She didn't know if she'd ever have it. But she guessed time would tell.

"Wow, Gran..."

"You're so like him, Ducky. So loud and bright, and thoughtful. And you have his jaw." She said, poking Andy in the cheek. "Don't cry for me, Argentina. But please, promise me something."

"Yeah?"

"Trust your gut. I keep insisting you make happiness the most important thing, because it is. I always knew there was something missing in  your mother. That she didn't feel about your father the way he felt about her. Love is delicate and you need to be careful, but you also need to trust in it."

 

* * *

 

"Hello?"

"Dad?"

"Andy?" His voice of surprise struck a guilty chord in her when he picked up the phone on Thursday night. A chord that was slowly being plucked at ever since her conversation with her grandmother.

Her mother never loved him the way someone ought to. That played over and over again in her head, and she stopped being angry. Or - she tried. She understood his helplessness a little more. She tried to think about her actions over the last couple of years leading up to the stunt she pulled, breaking into the University pool, and how she hadn't tried hard enough. He still had mistakes to own up to too. But maybe she had to be the brave one and take the first step.

One last talk, one from Sam this time, was what had her finally dialling his number while he sat on the porch swing, waiting patiently for her return.

_"If it's only four minutes long, will you lie to Ruth for me?" She giggled, head on his lap while he placed another M &M into her mouth._

_"Hmm, I might be persuaded to lie for you."_

_"Oh yeah?" She laughed, grabbing at the neck of his shirt and pulling him down for a kiss._

_"Maybe."_

_She seemed so content in that moment but when she sat up properly, and moved back to where she'd been twenty minutes ago, a troubled look took over. She'd looked that way all day and Ruth seemed to be hovering a little more than usual. He knew he was missing something - but he also knew it had nothing to do with him. Her dad was a tetchy topic, that she'd slowly been revealing to him. He knew he'd had a tough time since her mom left, that he spent too much time at the Penny. The rest - he wasn't sure how to ask._

_He picked up his guitar that he'd left leaning on the side of the swing, and began tuning it._

_(She'd made him promise to bring it to the cabin._

_"You could serenade me!" She'd said, looking so serious and excited._

_"What? No, how about you serenade me?"_

_"Oh, I can do that, I can absolutely do that. Not well, but if you need me to sing to 'Hero' at the top of my lungs, I can do it at the drop of a hat."_

_"How about this then, how about no one does any serenading?"_

_"Alright. You're too cool for that, I get it. But bring it anyway. Please Sam. Please bring it?"_

_He was reluctant to say no. So he didn't.)_

_"Okay, no more stalling I have to do it." She said, letting him into her head a little._

_He stopped moving his fingers and rested his arms over the guitar and touched her shoulder before she had the chance to stand._

_"Don't over think it. He's just going to be glad to hear your voice. You're not going to have to talk about the heavy stuff today. Just get a foot in the door."_

_She'd studied his easy face for a moment and considered his words, knowing he was right, and looked briefly at the phone, then back to him._

_"Do you have a good relationship with your dad?"_

_She still knew so little about him. Hardly a thing about Sarah, and Ruth considered her a friend. One who didn't visit, or call, evidently. Sam didn't offer much of himself. She didn't pry, but she couldn't always check her curiosity._

_"No. He wasn't a good guy anyway. We're past the point of talking." He said vaguely, turning to look out at the lawn rather than her. "You love your dad, Andy. You know you do. That's what's important."_

_If it weren't for Ruth moving inside the house, floor boards creaking close by, she may have lingered on the topic, but suddenly the phone weighed more in her hands, and her fingers moved over her home number._

"Sweetheart, it's so good to hear your voice. I- I miss you."

You didn't have to - is the thing she almost said, but it wasn't the time for  that. She didn't even feel sorry for herself like she did when she got there. He inadvertently gave her something invaluable. It felt like she was getting back a part of herself that had been missing too long.

"I miss you too, Dad. I've - I've been meaning to call you."

"Liar." He laughed, and she smiled from her end. Terrible liar, through and through.

"Not about missing you." She insisted. "I'm not mad at you anymore."

She was wondering up and down the porch, speaking quietly enough that Sam couldn't make out her words, only her tone. He plucked at the strings of his guitar, tuning them without his tuner which he'd lost who knows when.  He played a chord that wasn't quite right and she look over her shoulder and poke out her tongue, and he'd smile and go back to tuning.

"That's good to hear. I'm glad." Tommy said, so softly and warmly she could hear his smile.

Her father wasn't a cold man. He smiled wide and laughed with his whole body, but as she grew older, she knew that he was that way with very few people. Some colleagues, old friends, and sometimes a nice stranger on the right day. But they were less frequent in the last couple of years. And she knew it had to do with her.

"How's your grandmother?"

"Gran's great."

"Gran? Your done with that Ruth nonsense?" Tommy chuckled, making Andy feel foolish.

"Yeah Dad, she's my Gran. I only have the one."

"That's what I was trying to tell you." He said lightly.

Too lightly. It struck something, just as Sam played a perfect G-chord.

She wanted to ask him if he believed that, why he kept them apart. But she couldn't. Sam was right, she only had to start tonight. She needed to keep her head about her.

Sam played a perfect chord progression and she looked back to him just in time to see a satisfied look on his face, like the notes just filled a missing piece of a puzzle.

She looked at him, and - the missing pieces also kind of, fall into place. Without this summer, she wouldn't know Sam.

Her whole life she'd liked stories about time travel. The kind where the character can go forward and backward but the present stays the same, the ones where the slightest change shifts the world. She was never offended by the holes in the theory, or cared for the fanatics who picked the problems to death. She loved the idea that the future is delicate, and also set in stone. That just the right events take you to where you're meant to go.

Maybe things went just the way they were meant to go. Like the universe had followed some pre-destined plan.

Maybe if anything had been different, she wouldn't know Sam. Maybe he would've been there just the same.

In this case, she chose the former. Because while he sat there, slowly beginning to play 'Wonderwall', she needed to believe it was the only way she could have had him. And she knew, even then, she'd take him however she could.

 

* * *

 

"Six, count them, six minutes. Ha!" She said as she fell back onto the swing next to him, smiling her dazzling smile, feeling quite triumphant.

"And my guitar is finally playable." 

"Good. I'm glad." She said, removing a stray dog hair from Sam's black tee shirt.

It didn't matter whether Boo was with them or not, somehow everything either of them had was covered in dog hair. Like an inside joke, they mindlessly removed it from each other's clothing every time they sat down together.

"Yep. We took some dusty things off the shelf and tuned them up."

Andy snorted, not expecting that level of cheese to come out of his mouth, and Sam was laughing before the sentence was even finished. She brought her forehead down to rest on his shoulder, and he leaned back into the chair, pulling her with him.

"You're such a dork." She laughed.

She relaxed into him easily and it was obvious to him that she felt better than she had all day. That this big obstacle was out of the way, and then, tomorrow, they'd be free to go off together, nothing holding them back. It gave him a little anxiety - knowing that they'd been building up to this for a while. He wasn't used to it. But there was still an excitement to it.

"Sometimes. I like to think I have a way with words."

"Oh really?" She asked suggestively, moving in to kiss him just once, maybe to pull some nicely strung words out of him.

"Yeah, I've got a few for you, but it's something that my own grandmother would have put soap in my mouth for saying so."

Andy laughed again, and brought one hand up to slap him gently on the chest, trying to be irritated, or offended. But she still kinda wanted to hear them.

"Maybe you could just save them for while we're away."

With a raised eyebrow, and her  bottom lip being dragged under her teeth he groaned and shook his head at her. In twenty four hours they'd be alone, and they wouldn't have to tease each other anymore.


	16. Chapter 16

"We could play twenty questions?"  Andy suggested, picking at her nail bed, pushing back her cuticles.

"I think you've asked me more than twenty questions since we met, McNally."

"Yeah, maybe, but when you play twenty questions, they aren't personal questions. It's an investigative game you know? I thought it'd be more fun to play with you. A challenge."

"Why don't we just take it easy for now. Maybe on the way back."

If she was being honest, she was anticipating the prospect of getting there so much, she had hardly thought about... _after_.

"Hey, are you okay?" Andy asked, running her hand over Sam's shoulder while he drove.

Ever since he picked her up that afternoon, he hadn't been himself. He was dawning sunglasses and water instead of a coffee, his sunglasses hadn't come off once, and his eyebrows were drawn together -  she guessed that he was squinting. She'd think he was hung-over, but it was late last night when he left and he was practically dead on his feet. Grabbing a drink on the way home seemed unlikely.                                                                                                                            

"Yeah, yeah, just a headache." He insisted, trying to shoot her a smile, but it came off as more of a grimace.

"You sure? I can drive if you want." She offered, sliding a little closer on the bench of the truck once they pulled up to a red light.  

"I'm okay, Andy."

Andy moved one hand to his neck, digging her fingers in, hoping to relieve some tension. He leaned back into her touch a bit, but he hardly relaxed. She let him concentrate on driving and turned the radio down a little. Her eyes darted to the other cup holder in the console and saw a bottle of Tylenol. She worried her lip a little under  her top row of teeth, but said nothing, letting him focus and continuing to rub his neck.

 

* * *

 

They drove on the open highway for just over an hour before taking an exit to a wooded area, passing under giant firs that had been there longer than civilization. The sun that made it through the gaps of tree branches that veiled the road, it caught every particle in the air, rising off the pavement in this heat. One turn onto a wide dirt road, and two turns after that, and they were following two lines of mud, just far enough apart to know that this road had been well worn in by the cars to make their way down here before them. Eventually there was a small clearing, and a log cabin sitting pretty in the middle of a ring of forest.

"We don't have to stop for anything? No food?" She asked, surprised that it hadn't been too long a trip.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, actually, and she suddenly felt - unprepared, almost. Like there were steps of a plan to be followed, so she could confront being alone with him, completely alone, for the first time. It was as though they were in a whole new world, just sitting in their seats, driving up to the house. Completely cut off. She was almost scared she'd forget how to talk to him. Her chest felt heavy as she looked at the house.

"Coolers in the back. Stocked up for two days. And Oliver's pantry is probably in good shape."

The cabin was on a bit of a platform, built slightly above ground, with a deck out front where large chairs sat facing the more open part of the woods - where the trees were thin enough to watch kids run around. He said Oliver had kids, two with one more on the way. The trees were further apart and the lowest branches a hundred feet up - logs from fallen trees covered in moss every few yards - an open glen.

He opened his door and she snapped out of her daze, reaching into the backseat to grab her small bag, taking her time as her feet hit the ground, to be sure her legs wouldn't give out beneath her. The mossy grass under her boots was like the feeling of sore feet sinking into soft carpet after a long day. It reminded her of camping in the late summer/brink of fall when she was a kid.

There were birds hiding in the trees, chattering, not singing just squawking and the wind was light, pushing through a breeze every so often, that was muted in the thick of the forest.

"C'mon."

Andy snapped her head down from the tops of the trees where they met the sky back to Sam's to see him closer to the stairs up to the deck, holding his hand out  to her. She continued looking around while her feet carried her closer to him, and she placed her hand limply in his, only holding on when he gave her a squeeze.

The front door was two French doors, opening up into the cabin, shielded by soft white curtains that got caught up in the breeze when Sam pushed them all the way open.

"Should probably air it out a bit." He said.

 As she peeked around at the furniture and the small kitchen off to the side, she noticed it was much nicer than she was anticipating; not as rustic as she had made it out to be in her head. The kitchen had a large fridge and relatively new looking stove. Nothing stainless steel. The windows were all large - nothing resembling a shutter - and the skylight in the open living room made it seem as bright as it was outside under the sun. There was a well used L-shaped couch facing a TV, not too old, but what looked like maybe it was brought to the cabin when the owners bought a flat screen for their living room.

There was  narrow hallway way a little further in, what she assumed would lead to the bedrooms and the bathroom, but she was content to look around the front of the cabin a little while longer. The floor boards under foot were oak, and well cared for, not many scratches or marks, though she thought with all the burnouts Boo could do, he'd cause some damage. Sam was moving into the kitchen, opening the windows up, and she trailed behind him, stepping without purpose. There were cabinets lining the walls, making for a lot of storage in the small corner space, and no dish washer, as she expected. The pots and pans hung on a rack above the small square island in the middle, not meant for eating around, but extra counter space. There was however, a breakfast nook. In the other corner space, along the front of the cabin wall, a small booth seat had been put in and two chairs sat at the open ends, a great view of the forest from three of the four sides.

Sam was moving around so quickly, and he still hadn't taken of his sunglasses, even as he disappeared down the darker hallway where the skylights brightness couldn't reach. Their bags were gone, so she assumed he brought them with him. She decided she'd taken in all she could from the first rooms and followed him in, not before seeing an old embroidered portrait on the wall between the kitchen and the hall.

'Home is where the heart is,' it read, with a small brick house below it, smoke coming out the chimney. 

It was something she'd expect to see in Ruth's house. She didn't notice the initials in the corner.

* * *

 

"It's a great place," Andy said, having spent a minute in the doorway watching Sam open the window and turn down the bed for later. "I'll have to remember to write Oliver a thank-you card."

She stuffed her hands in her shorts pockets, nervous when she noticed that the frown hadn't dissipated from Sam's face. But he'd finally taken off his shades.

He glanced up and back down quickly like it were an interruption to his mission before he realized she was waiting on him. He took a deep breath, and stopped fussing with the duvet, putting it back down and stepped around the bed and made his way to her.

"You know we're like, on vacation right? No stress, nobody else. What's going on with you?" She asked quietly as he sat down on the edge of the bed, holding her hands in his.

"I know I've been weird today. I woke up with a _bad_ headache, and it's not going away. I really wanted this weekend to be perfect, but all I can think about is being in a dark room and getting over this thing. I'm sorry." He said a little gruffly, clearly annoyed with himself.

She ran her hand through his hair, scratching a little at his scalp and he relaxed a bit, pulling her between his legs so she'd keep doing it while he was eye level with her stomach.

"Nothing to be sorry about. I know you'd love to be feeling 100%. If you were, we would be naked by now." Andy laughed sincerely.

In all honesty, she was kind of glad things weren't frenzied and charged right now. They'd done that. And it was great, but this time, it wouldn't have to be.

"Don't remind me." Sam said, eyes looking her up and down with regret shining in his eyes.

"We've got two more days. It'll go away." She insisted, meaning it. No pressure tonight was probably a good thing. "How about this, I'll get dinner going, and you close the blinds in here and rest a bit."

He didn't look too happy at her suggestion, but he did need it. And pushing this pain wasn't a good idea. So Sam nodded and scrubbed a hand over his face, looked back at the ready bed, and began to lean back.

"I'll get you around six."

* * *

 

It was four when she walked out of the bedroom, swinging her arms back and forth, fully extended. She familiarized herself with the kitchen and where everything was kept. The cooler still had to be brought inside, so she wrestled it upstairs and started putting things in the fridge and freezer, all the while making note of what she could make them. Sam was the superior cook, so she figured she wouldn't dare try anything to fancy, but something she knew she could make well.

She mindlessly cut vegetables for a salad while she marinated the chicken breasts, and while she was waiting for them to bake she found a show to watch quietly. And when the timer on the oven went for the chicken and she pulled it out to let it cool, she slipped silently down to the master bedroom to wake Sam.

He'd taken off his tee shirt and jeans and them folded on the chair by the window. He lay on the bed on his stomach, facing away from the door, his arms up and under the pillow, hugging it tightly.

The dark curtains blocked out all the sunlight and it was pitch black except for the light coming in from the rest of the house behind her.

Andy was tempted to just crawl in next to him and shut her eyes. She'd had trouble sleeping the night before. But she was able to resist. Walked around the bed and crouched down next to it, perfectly at eye level.

"Hey, sleepy head." She whispered, shaking his shoulder gently. "Time to get some food in you."

He raised his head quickly, eyes still closed, and he slowly pried one open, then the other. Andy watched him slowly remember where he was and then after a few brief moments, he squinted again and brought a hand to his temples.

"Shit."

"Didn't help?" She asked, more concerned now than before.

Sam shook his head and pushed himself to a sitting position, putting his head in his hands.

"I'll get you some water."

"No, no, I'm coming, I'm getting up."

"Sam, you should stay here."          

"We're having dinner together, Andy. I can't just sleep when I brought you here."

"Sam."

"I'm serious, let's just, have dinner and maybe I'll be feeling better?"

Andy looked so calm to him. She didn't appear disappointed in anyway, and he was confused by it. He had this all planned out and it wasn't going the way he wanted it to, at all. But here she was, crouched on the floor, content with letting him rest when it was the last thing he wanted to do.

She pulled herself up and sat next to him, searching for a hand to hold.

"Sam, I know we've been so anxious to just be alone together, and I know that this isn't what either of us pictured so far. But, we've got time. And I don't care if this is it for tonight. If we just eat dinner and watch TV and go to bed early... it doesn't matter. We're here. We've got all weekend."

She said it so confidently and sincerely that he was finally able to stop feeling like he robbed her of something. Her eyes were watching him carefully, hoping he accepted that what she was saying was the truth and when he nodded in agreement she sighed happily.

"C'mon. It's getting cold."

* * *

 

And that was more or less how their night went. Andy pulled all the curtains shut, and they sat in the nook with the dinner she prepared, speaking softly to one another, her having to cover her mouth so she didn't bark out a laugh. He put the dishes in the sink, and told her to leave them for the morning, he'd take care of them. They watched the end of some Rachel McAdams rom-com and then went into the bedroom, hands clasped tightly together.

She'd made sure he stuck to water and took Tylenol every few hours, and was all around alright with looking after him. But now - now it was time for bed. To share a bed. And she'd left one crucial thing off of her packing list. Sam took his toothbrush and pyjama bottoms into the bathroom first, figuring she'd need more time with her ritual and she sat there, trying to figure out a way to tell him she hadn't worried with pyjamas.

"Your turn." He'd said, coming out of the bathroom, still in the process of putting on his white tee.

She continued sitting on the bed, wishing she'd at least brought one baggy tee-shirt. That and her boy shorts would be fine. But just her underwear? 'when sam was in no condition to do anything? It seemed like a bad idea.

"Can I, um. Can I borrow your shirt?" She asked, trying to sound distracted as she grabbed her toiletry bag from her duffel.

He laid back on the bed, letting out a deep breath while he got situated.

"What for?"

She shouldn't have waited until he was taking a drink of water, but it took a long time to choke out.

"I didn't really pack anything for... bed."

He choked a little and once it went down, he coughed hard.

"What?"

"I didn't- I didn't think it would matter." She admitted without elaboration.

All Sam could do was nod. What else was there to say?

When she came back out of the bathroom ten minutes later in his navy shirt, he was still sitting up against the headboard, flipping through a book he brought along, but the sight of her drowning in his shirt sure distracted him.

She wasn't drastically smaller than him or anything, and it didn't even fall too long on her frame, but she was narrower than him. There was a certain way it had to hang for both her shoulders to keep covered, but she didn't seem to care when it slipped. Her legs, one of his favourite parts of her to fixate on were perfectly framed by that shirt and the cut of underwear that accompanied it.

"Again, sorry, I just thought... you know."

"Yeah, I wish." He said while she moved around the room, turning off the light and putting everything away. "Believe me."

Andy smiled at him, trying not to be too suggestive and failing, adding to the tension sucking oxygen out of her lungs. Her eyes flitted to the bed that awaited her and he'd already taken the left side.

"So that's your side, the left?"

"Yeah, I guess, but we can always switch, if that's your side." He said quickly, realizing this was something he could've waited for.

"No, it's fine, I don't have a preference. I'm not even used to sharing beds." She said, sitting on the bed for the first time, keeping a wide berth between them. Temptation, room for Jesus... all that good stuff.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. Well, I mean, I've been in other people's beds. Not a lot- I, oh fuck. I just mean I don't sleep well in other people's beds. I don't usually do sleepovers. Of any kind."

Sam chuckled at how easily she flustered herself, worried about what he'd think of her. He didn't particularly like hearing 'people's beds' being repeated, the plurals, but he couldn't deny that it was true of himself. It was just usually his bed.

"Relax, Andy, I get it. Just, promise me you won't try sleeping in the truck? I promise it's not comfy."

"No more blankets and pillows in the back huh?"

"Those are only for special occasions."

"Well, I promise I'm not going anywhere."


	17. Chapter 17

As Sam slowly floated back to consciousness the next morning, he noticed the space next to him was cold and empty. His second realization is that the throbbing at his temples was completely gone and the water glass next to him had been refilled in case it wasn't. All of her stuff on the other side of the bed was still the way it was last night, clothes laying across the top of her duffel bag. Which meant she was out there, walking around in his shirt.

He thought about how she looked walking out of the bathroom in it - how her legs went on for what seemed like miles beneath it. He thought about the last time he'd had her down to her under wear in a bedroom and how they could've just gone for it if only Ruth hadn't chosen that moment to show up. He remembered the blush that spread over her chest but never reached her cheeks. He remembered that little sound she made when he pushed her further into the mattress and how she'd been the one to lead him to bed.

He did a little too much reminiscing because the throbbing in his head was gone, but it had relocated.

He groaned and buried his face in his hands, wishing she were still laying next to him. So that he might roll over and even just kiss her. Something. So he threw back the covers, got up and tucked his  morning wood into the waist band of his boxers under his pyjama pants and figured he needed food above all else right now.

Sam padded quietly into the kitchen once he heard running water from the tap at the sink and came out the end of the hall to see her washing the dishes from last night.

If it were yesterday, the light would've killed him, but today it made her radiant. One door was left open and he saw her book and a mug of tea sitting out by one of the chairs on the deck and wondered how long she'd been awake.

Andy hummed a tune to herself and washed and rinsed a few plates while he stood there, quietly watching. She used her toe to scratch at the opposite calf a few times, and he remembered hearing her mention after a Sunday dinner that she got itchy ankles when washing the dishes. From what she remembered her mom and Ruth did too. A mystery no one could solve.

And it caused something to come undone in the pit of his stomach. This realization that there was a reason he had trouble accepting that she was really okay that nothing happened last night. The build up - it wasn't going to end after this weekend. Everything that had happened up until now hadn't happened in the anticipation of sex. It was always more. And he hadn't really had more before. This was brand new.

Watching her bob her head to the song she sang under her breath he grinned. This was such an unexpected part of his break but it almost had him thanking what got him there - _almost_. He had demons she couldn't chase away, but her light made him forget. It scared them into corners.

He was less careful about his foot falls going forward and she looked quickly over her shoulder at him while her arms stayed in the soapy water to scrub the pyrex dish.

"Good morning. How's your head?" She smiled, probably glad to have some company.

"S'alright."

He thought about checking in the fridge for something but the shoulder of the shirt had fallen off of looked too inviting for words.

He made his way over to her, completely forgetting about the rigid pole in his pants and wound his arms around her waist in a sleepy morning hug. She definitely felt him because she stepped forward up to the counter so she was stuck between it and him, just in case he hadn't realized. When he did, he didn't care and hug her a little more tightly, listening to the gasp of air that rushed to fill her lungs and the shaky exhale.

"I said I'd do these." He whispered, a little hoarsely.

"You said you'd do a lot of things." She said breathily, hand sliding slowly down the dish's surface, completely distracted by what was happening out of the water.

Sam stared at the bare skin on her shoulder and noticed goose-bumps started to form. He saw that her hands had gone slack in the water, not caring about the quality of the dish washing and he bent his head to get his lips on her exposed skin.

He kissed it, feather light and she let go of the sponge she'd been clutching onto and scrubbing with before she'd noticed he was there.  Sam pulled back a little bit, inspecting it one more time and then sunk his teeth in just a bit, biting playfully.  She shivered when she felt his teeth marking her and his hot breath at the same time, while one hand slid up her side, soothingly rubbing at her ribs.

"You hungry?" He asked quietly, loosening what was left of his tight hold on her waist.

She nodded her head and dropped the last dish in the soap water.

"That needs to uh, to soak for a bit. I can make us some bacon and eggs."

Her hip had bumped against him gently while she made an attempt to turn in his arms and he hummed in appreciation of the contact causing her to smile a little, and for a deep heat to bleed from the inside out.

Andy looked up at Sam's face for the first time, really, that morning and took in his impressive morning stubble, his big round eyes gone dark, and his open mouth looking invitingly kissable. She forgot what she was meant to be doing as his face came closer and just as she was about to reach up to his face and kiss him, his head bent to the left and his lips found the crook of her neck and kissed her softly. And then he kissed again, sucking a little at her skin. Standing still seemed impossible. Sam gathered her up in his arms even tighter and she found her hips tilting forward, seeking out his. The harder he sucked the more she jumped forward trying to get at him. 

"Did you sleep okay?"  Andy asked then in a shaky voice where she was trying to cover up how insanely turned on she was because... well, she seemed desperate enough.

Sam answered with a grunt of confirmation, continuing to kiss his way down her neck to her shoulder sweetly, a small shiver crawling down her spine and his tongue peeked out for a moment to lick at the teeth marks he had left. 

"I'm guessing that your head is feeling better... You don't look as... Pale," She gasped when he bit the thin skin over her collarbone, his hips keeping her squarely pinned to the counter. "As you did yesterday."

That's when Sam stopped, realizing that she wanted to talk for a minute. "I do feel better, yeah. How are you feeling?" He paused, lifting his hips away from hers and giving her some space. Sam wanted this like the force of a ton of bricks but more than that, he wanted her to feel okay. 

Her chest rose and fell a few times, literally just staring at him. "I felt better when you were kissing me," she smirked. 

"Hmm, really?" Sam asked like he was genuinely intrigued but still distracted.

But then Andy tugged him close again, got his thigh between hers and her hips bumped out, and this time connected with the friction she wanted. Sam watched as she worked herself on his thigh with long, slow thrusts while her breathing became a little frenzied. 

"Mmhmm. You should probably continue...," She urged, voice unfamiliar to her own ears. "Please, Sam."

Sam immediately woke from his daze when she stopped, her hand coming down to meet his lower abdomen. He grabbed her jaw in one hand, a little quicker and rougher than he meant to but the trace of a smile pulled at the side of her mouth. Without another second he brought his mouth down on hers and she moaned, getting her hands up onto the counter behind her to lift herself up.

The small space of fake granite that she was perched on wasn't very wide. One jerky step forward and he had knocked her back toward the sink. Her legs hooked around him to stop from falling in, heels digging into his ass and effectively lining  _everything_  up. Sam made an animalistic noise in his throat in response to her gasp, when he reached to cup her ass in his hands. He could feel the warmth between them, moving from her panties to his pajama pants. On any other day, he'd have tried to remove those layers, but the look on her face and the thrust of her hips was telling him this was working for her very, very well. 

 

This closeness his hard body, the pressing, and the slow and subtle grind of his hips had Andy  wondering on an endless loop of how she'd kept away from him for two months. Andy's hands found his face and brought their mouths together harder, slipping her hand around to fist in his hair when she felt herself growing more frantic to get to the end. She gasped when he cupped a hand on her breast, breaking away from his mouth to catch her breath before he captured her lips once again. It was like being on a sensory overload. Half of her brain couldn't keep up with how good he smelled and how much she craved his touch. The other half was already so far gone that they may as well write off the entire day as "sex" because she had zero intentions of stopping any time soon.  He kept pulling his head back, slowing her down, but then his hips would tilt forward into her, denying her his lips but assuring her this was going to be good. 

Moments after she reached down between them to stroke him through his jeans, they were swinging around. Andy's thighs gripped his hips when he lifted her, turning them to the small empty island and dropped her down. Her hands sought out the bottom of his shirt and tugged, indicating that they were still wearing entirely too much clothing.

"Thought you wanted to talk?" He asked when he pulled back, confused, cloudy and a little lust-drunk - once again, slowing things right down. She wasn't sure whether or not he was trying to drive her crazy, but it was working. 

Andy shook her head, dropping down to suck at Sam's neck, mostly to hide. 

" _McNally_ ," He was clearly trying to get her attention.

Andy groaned, sitting back on her hands and arching to brush her breasts against his chest. If he would just reach out and...

"I was just trying to think about something before I, um...,  _yeah_ , " her eyes went wide with insinuation, watching his eyebrows jump. She was so not even lying either. "...before we could even get naked."

Sam couldn't even breathe for a second, the picture of her getting there as she ground against him. Part of him didn't want to head to the bedroom at all and just take her right here instead. Andy McNally naked on the kitchen island was something that only happened in his dreams.  "That... Would not have been a bad thing at all," he murmured, getting his fingertips under the hem of her shirt and tugging up. 

Andy was smiling and bare above the waist when he got it over her head. 

"Mmm," she laughed, fisting in the waistband of his pants. She backed off just a little, giving some space to get his bottoms off. The look on her face when he stood back up was going be etched in his memory for days. "We've waited way too long for this," She said breathlessly, when he dropped her down onto the table.

Sam chuckled, cocking an eyebrow before giving her a devilish smile.

"Not a bed girl McNally?" He laughed, pulling her hips back to him, her having slid further down the island than he intended.

The long, nearly completely naked length of her was spread out over the island as she fell back onto her elbows, silently displaying herself, probably in hopes of getting him to stop talking. And while it was beginning to work as she watched his eyes go black and his chest rise faster, she pressed herself up again so that she was right there in front of him, easily accessible.

"This time, I'm a right now, kind of girl."

 


	18. Chapter 18

Bliss is a word Andy had often heard. Thought she'd felt.  She had been oh so very wrong.

Because she'd never felt a bliss like this.

Miles away from her life, in a small cabin surrounded by trees, her legs tangled in soft white sheets while the open French doors allowed a couple waves of the breeze to cool the sweet sweat that rested on her tanned skin... nestled into Sam Swarek. This was her bliss.

The room smelt like pine, fresh grass, and sweat and although it was nearing noon, it felt like a long day had already passed, and part of her just wanted to drift off to sleep like this.

Sam's hand ran up and down her spine, dipping into the notches and rubbing at her shoulders ever so often. Her fingers worked through the smattering of hair on his chest and often fell to his side - checking one more time if he was ticklish. So far she'd had no success.

"I already told you, I'm not." He said, voice raw because they'd been laying in silence for quite some time, laughing every now and then, but refusing to break the bubble.

"I'll find your spot." Andy said thoughtlessly as she brought her hand back up and traced her finger around his nipple.

"Oh, you've found plenty of my spots already, McNally."

She loved it when he said her name like that, warm and low and drawn out, and she hummed happily, craning her neck to look up at him from where her head was nestled on his shoulder. His mouth was rested in a soft smile, and when he looked down at her when she moved, it grew a little and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep it contained.

"Yeah, you too." She admitted, more than reluctant, because it was the whole truth.

There wasn't a moment that he his mouth was fused to her, any part of her, that didn't work really well or inch her toward the edge. And when he was inside of her, as cheesy as it is, there wasn't a time that she'd ever felt better connected to another person. No one.

And before she could let fear soak in, he'd move and she'd sigh, and that connection would hold until they fell together.  To be honest, she could picture a lot of 'togetherness' with him.

"Well that's because I'm awesome."

"Sure. Let's pretend it has nothing to do with years of badge bunnies." She joked, immediately wishing she hadn't.

Because imagining him in a cop bar with women fawning over him made her stomach turn and her inner green monster emerge.

"I resent that." He chuckled, kissing Andy's forehead and putting to bed the monster who was sharpening her claws and bringing Andy back to this moment - this bed.

A gust of wind blew in and since the sweat had long cooled, she shivered, and looked around the floor for the comforter they'd kicked off almost immediately after falling into the bed. She wrapped the sheet around herself a little more and crawled down the bed to its end and reached down for it when Sam tugged at the bit of sheet that was still wrapped around his torso. It sent Andy, uncovered, crashing onto the giant white comforter on the floor,  breaking her fall as she yelped and then laughed so hard she snorted.

"You okay?" He asked, clearly not intending to send her falling, but amused since she seemed to be fine.

But she was still laughing, so he moved to end of the bed too, to make sure she was fine. The sight that greeted him, had his face serious in seconds when he saw her hair fanned out and her biting her bottom lip to keep her giggles at bay, and the rest of her languid and tired limbs bent and inviting. Her legs were together and folded, away from him, and her arms were up above her head, twirling her own hair self consciously while he stared.

"I'm good."

He didn't doubt the sincerity. He waited a couple of beats before nodding in agreement and then a mischievous smile took over, and her eyebrows pressed together in a suspicious frown.

"Stay there."

 

* * *

 

An hour later he was making the bed while she rummaged through the fridge, looking for something for them to eat that would require little preparation. She was still in his tee shirt and track pants and her hair tied messily into a top knot, not bothering to take the time to run a comb through it.

She'd gone three rounds with Sam Swarek in a matter of hours and every time she retrieved something from the fridge and put it on the kitchen island she thought of what had happened not too long ago. Floor boards creaked under Sam's feet as he walked from the bedroom to the kitchen and she wiped the smile of her face so they wouldn't get carried away again. His sweat pants were worn low on his hips and he didn't bother grabbing a fresh shirt, but she wish he had. It would be a miracle if they went outside today.

"Sandwiches okay?" She asked when he walked past her to get a glass of water.

"Oh, very fancy." The playful sarcasm made her shove at his chest half heartedly when he stood next to her and grabbed a piece of pepperoni and popped it into his mouth.

"I'm quite skilled in the kitchen."

A flash of her naked body, splayed atop the island came to mind.

"No arguments here, sweetheart."

She didn't catch the double entendre as she began slicing tomatoes, so Sam just laughed to himself and pushed away, disappearing down the hall for a minute and came back with a sweater on. But he veered toward the living room, going to check their phones that they'd abandoned by the sofa last night. He sat down heavily and put his bare feet on the coffee table, completely at home in Oliver's place.

Andy quite often wondered about his friends and what they were like. What it must be like to have formed a bond in the line of work they do. She'd heard Sam on the phone with his friend Jerry before, calling him brother and the next moment giving him shit for something mundane. Growing up with her dad on the force she'd had various 'Uncles' and what not, but after her dad started slipping, it really weeded out the ones that would back him up no matter what. There weren't too many, but they were the ones who would call her and ask how he's been lately.

She wasn't one to worry too much about her dad before he was a detective. Mostly because part of her believed that everyone trusted and respected the police, that all cops were worthy of it. That he dealt solely with weaponless thieves and helped lost kids find their parents. He made detective when she was starting middle school and just in time for her to notice the real dangers of the world. But that's when her mom left. She had been the one to worry late at night. She had carried that alone. And Andy had often silently taken her dad's side when they fought because he did what he did to help people. Andy thought her mother to be extremely selfish, and she wasn't all wrong.

But now she wondered how she'd feel if she had had to wait up late at night to be sure her husband came home safe.

She wasn't going to pretend she hadn't noticed the scar on Sam's shoulder weeks ago and the way his knee had been stitched up recently. He also had some trouble with his left hand. When he'd been holding something for too long, he'd squeeze and stretch his fingers and roll his wrist around. 

But she wasn't like Claire. She'd made promises to herself a long time ago to never be like her. She might fight and yell, but she'd stay. She'd be there in the morning.

She glanced over to Sam again while he typed away on his phone and smiled again, dispelling serious memories and thought about how happy she was.

"Ruth texted." He said, still staring at his phone. "Just wanted to check in and make sure we didn't leave anything behind. You know, asked if we were enjoying ourselves."

She detected the satisfied smirk on his mouth and laughed.

"Yeah, you tell her we had a particularly good morning?" She smiled to herself.

Andy plated the sandwiches and grabbed herself a glass of milk and then balanced it all in her arms on the way to the couch.

"Oh definitely. Ruined her image of you forever." Sam smiled back at her then reached for the plates and set them on the coffee table.

Andy fell down into the low couch next to him and took a sip from her glass.

"Ha ha. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm enough of a deviant already. She has plenty accurate ideas of what's going on here." Andy replied, a little embarrassed.

Sam bit into his sandwich and weighed her words, nodding.

"Yeah I can't imagine I'll ever be as popular with her as I once was." Sam admitted, mouth half full of food.

"Ew. Chew, swallow, then speak." Andy said before taking a bite out of hers too, grateful that they'd taken a food break. She hadn't noticed how hungry she was until she was standing in the kitchen. "She loves you, you're too charming to older ladies to be pushed away. And too stubborn."

"Well that's the one thing we have in common." He winked.

They took a break from discussing it so they could finish their lunch and he couldn't disgust her with talking with his mouth full. And then they abandoned their plates and he laid out on the couch, putting his legs over her lap. Andy rested her arms over them and leaned her head back and just closed her eyes for a moment.

"Maybe we should go for a walk. Take some pictures of the cabin to show Ruth when we get back. She'd like this place." Andy mused, looking at the fairly high ceiling and glancing out the window. "She's such a sucker for houses with decks like this one."

There was one at both the front and  the back where the master was. But the one off the bedroom had no stairs to access it. If they hadn't been so caught up this morning, that's where she would have had her morning coffee and flipped through her book. She thought she'd better do the dishes. Sam had other ideas of what they could 'do'.

"She might get the idea to redo her deck if we do. And you know who's going to build it?"

"You?"

"Us. You're still my assistant."

"Partner."

"Assistant."

"Oh come on, that makes me sound like all I do bring you coffee and stand by holding your toolbox." She argued, rolling her head to the side to look at his smirk.

"Fine. Partner."

 

* * *

 

"Jesus. Be careful, Andy." Sam called after he watched her hurdle a big log that had fallen on the path. They found a trail not too far down the road they drove to the cabin, and figured it wouldn't hurt to follow it for a little while, turn back when they wanted. And Andy took to the fallen debris that hadn't been cleared in maybe decades (judging from the moss that spread over it like a blanket) as thought it were an obstacle course. She'd get a bit ahead and then wait for Sam to catch up, holding his arm while they walked and taking deep breaths of the clean and crisp air.

It was cooler in the afternoon, sun covered by clouds which darkened with every hour. Andy wore a thin sweater and a vest, keeping her track pants from the morning on, and Sam threw on a shirt and jeans , and while he claimed he didn't need another layer, she warned that he'd need a fleece or something. And she'd been right. He checked the thermometer on the deck as they were leaving and it was much cooler than the day before.

"We'll have to check the weekly forecast when we get back. It's probably gonna rain tonight." Sam said, looking up at the sky with a tight mouth and squinted eyes.

"Oh, can we keep the doors open? I love falling asleep to the sound of rain!"

"The bedroom will get damp, and might get a mildew-y smell." He said.

"Okay, Grouch-O."

"McNally, you mean Oscar the grouch. Groucho was one of the Marx Brothers."

"Who?"

"Seriously?" Sam stopped, walking, making her stop to and looked at her with big wide eyes.

"What? Is this something I should know?" She asked after a brief pause, remembering once again that he had nearly a decade on her.

"Vaudeville! They were a famous comedy act."

She sighed relief hearing that.

"Oh come on, it's reasonable that I don't know that. That's before both of our times. Besides, I know the Stooges."

"Oh please, they paved the way for the Three Stooges, they'd be nothing without the Marx Brothers."

Andy rolled her eyes but smiled at him, so genuinely annoyed that she appreciated the Stooges and had never known the Marx Brothers.

Sam softened at her amusement in the tiff and looked up at the darkening sky one more time.

"C'mon let's go back now, we're only twenty minutes away."

"Wait, we need a picture." She said, pulling a camera from her vest pocket and lowering herself onto one knee to take a picture of the pathway lined and obstructed with trees.

He stood by patiently, waiting as she clicked about ten, just to make sure they came out okay, but then she bounced over to him and extended her arm, pointing the camera at the two of them.

Andy couldn't even really believe herself.

She never understood people capturing those kind of private moments. But after the last twenty four hours, she thought it was more the idea of putting them out there publically for everyone to see that made no sense. She wanted to remember this. This feeling, being off and isolated with no one else. Just the two of them. Andy wanted to be able to look through an album one day and recall what this felt like. This kind of 'first time' that had nothing to do with the sex, but feeling this way about anybody at all.

"C'mon McNally, no." He said.

Surprisingly, she didn't snap a picture, but she didn't lower the camera either.

"Instead of several of you talking and frowning,  how about you smile and it's _one_ painless picture. Deal?"

It was diplomatic so Sam conceded, shaking his head and then forcing a smile.

She was already smiling next to him but again didn't take the picture, turning to check his face.

"Oh come on that's so fake!" She accused, raising one eyebrow.

"You didn't say it had to be sincere."

"Well it does. Okay?" She asked, not really expecting a reply.

He frowned and she rocked forward onto the balls of her feet and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but he stuck his hands in her open vest pockets and kept her there, and gave her a proper kiss.

He didn't move, instead he kept working her lips, having missed them for only an hour or so. But since he'd gotten used to their softness anytime he wanted, up here, an hour seemed a little too long.

She pulled away first, inspecting his mouth with lowered lids, and pulling her lip between her teeth, and he smiled at her.

She turned his chin with her hand, and leaned her head against his and took another shot.

"There." She said, turning it off and moving to place it back in her pocket, but Sam's hands were still there.

"What say we go back and build a fire, watch a movie or something, and make some dinner." He was quiet, like he was this morning, and she felt her breaths coming in shallower, as she painted a picture of the night beyond that, and nodded happily.

He moved his hands and she zipped the camera up safely, and they walked back the way they came - never figuring out where the trail would take them, but happy enough to stay curious.

It was only a few minutes before they spoke again.

"Next you're going to tell me your not a Leafs fan, and then we're doomed." Andy laughed.

"Actually, I'm a Habs guy."

 

* * *

 

The evening went as planned. He built them a nice fire and they went through the old VHS's that had piled up at the cabin, sorting the Disney from the more 'grown up' films. They went with Lethal Weapon, only to have Sam gripe the whole time about the lack of realism applied and Andy having to rationalize the few things she could so that he'd just relax.

_"It was the 80's, Sam."_

_"So maybe they'd have been suspended well before now, but they weren't."_

It was amusing none the less. And she made them chicken in a peanut sauce and a side of mixed veggies and rice that they ate by the fire while Sam popped in Die Hard.

_"You think that's going to be any better?"_

_"No, but I like being critical. Keeps me sharp." He chuckled, with her, at himself._

As the embers burned and they had long finished their meals, the movie credits rolled and Andy's eyes were ready to close but her mind was still wide awake. Sam had had a steady hand on her side while she laid half atop, half along side of him while they watched, and his hand stroked up and down, warming her and keeping her satiated. They'd taken a few chunks of the movie to make out, lazily, not quite like teenagers, but with some light PG-13 groping. They were both still sore and tired from the morning. And he admitted to liking the surface area of the bed. Gave him more to work with. She'd laughed, claiming they could be inventive.

But now it was time to go to bed, no headaches, nothing stopping them.

And they did leave one of the doors open a crack just as the rain broke and fell from the sky. The room was cold while their bodies burned like well stoked fires. And she came over the precipice, for the first time that night, just as the thunder cracked across the sky.


End file.
